Persecuted
by Doodlelolly0910
Summary: Emma has been running for a long time. King Greg and Queen Tamara are in power over the Enchanted Forest and magic is being snuffed out all over the land. Emma has evaded capture so far but her luck is wearing thin. Booking passage aboard a pirate ship called The Jolly Roger was her last hope to escape the kingdom she loved in order to save it and herself. Rated M for later chapter
1. Escape

The wind rolling off of the ocean was particularly biting as she made her way along the docks. Damn this long winter and its continued efforts to impede her progress. As if on cue, snow began to fall. She pulled her cloak around her tightly, partially for warmth, but mostly to keep the wind from blowing the fabric from her face and exposing her to anyone who might care to look upon her. She had been running for so long and she was so very tired. The soft thud of the boots on her feet against the weathered wood beneath them seemed to echo off the water and she consciously stepped a little lighter. Discretion was key, after all. Speed and discretion.

It was well after midnight and the docks were quiet and devoid of people for the most part. An occasional drunken sailor had stumbled past her without more than a brief glance, for which she was thankful for. She put one determined foot in front of the other as her target came into view.

The ship glimmered in the moonlight, the polished wood almost twinkling back at her as she made her way up the ramp towards the deck. She felt a connection to it that she tried desperately to ignore, but the blood began to sing in her veins as she drew nearer to it. She sighed as she realized the Jolly Roger must be made of enchanted wood.

"Ho, there." A portly man in a knit red hat rushed forward to keep her from boarding. His bearded face was stern, but she could tell a kind man when she saw one. Nevertheless, a pirate was a pirate and not to be trifled with, no matter how kind. "State your business."

"I seek an audience with your captain." She reached for the satchel at her hip and removed two large gold coins, placing them in the man's hand. He looked from the coins to her shadowed façade, astonished.

"The... the captain does not like to be disturbed this late in the night..." The man stammered. She retrieved another coin from the pouch and pressed it on top of the others firmly in his still extended palm.

"I trust you understand the urgency of this matter." She said in a low voice. The man was thoroughly flustered and looked around the deck nervously for any other body that might observe their exchange before ushering her quickly on board. She followed his brisk approach to the door of the captain's quarters. He gave a final nervous glance to the woman behind him before raising his hand and placing three shaky raps against the heavy wooden door.

They waited. No response came.

The man knocked again three more times, slightly louder, and shifted with greater apprehension. Shuffling behind the door was heard and heavy footsteps stormed towards them. The door flew open and the stout little man jumped backwards, connecting with the front of the lady behind him. She swayed slightly with the jolt of the man's weight, but did not stumble.

"Smee." The man who stood on the other side of the door growled out the name, his voice husky with sleep, or too much drink, or both. Leather trousers hugged the curves of his legs and his dark linen shirt hung from his shoulder, exposing the line of his collarbone and the dusting of black chest hair beneath. She let her gaze travel upward over the stubble that lay neatly trimmed on his chiseled jaw and framed his lips, which were turned in a snarl, exposing the clenched white teeth within them. Dragging her vision upward still, she found two of the bluest eyes she had ever seen, both ringed with smudged kohl and burning into the two bodies standing before him. His raven hair flopped over his forehead, thoroughly mussed from his rest.

"C-captain..." The man called Smee began.

"Please tell me, Mr. Smee, that you have not woken me for some late night dalliance with the local tavern harlot." He glanced at the woman his first mate was still pressed against and drug his gaze back to the sputtering man in front of him. She was afraid to move, lest the rotund sailor collapse on the deck without her support, and fought against the urge to raise her chin stiffly at the verbal jab in order to avoid the moonlight catching any of her features.

"N-no, sir. She seeks a parlay." Smee informed him and extended his hand to the captain. The pirate brought up his right hand and the man dropped the three coins into his waiting palm. His gaze darted from the gold back to the woman concealed within the fabric layers behind his first mate. A smile crept over his cheeks as he began to turn one of the coins between the knuckles of his fingers, the other two safely secured to his palm by his thumb.

"In that case, please forgive my impudence. Smee, fetch us some wine." The man in the red hat finally found his footing and skittered away at the request, leaving her alone with the pirate captain. He stepped back from the doorway and the door creaked open wider with his movement. He dipped forward slightly in a bow. "Please, enter." He flashed his teeth in a charming smile that sent butterflies through her stomach. _Nerves'_ , she told herself. She entered the room silently.

He made his way around the small wooden table bolted to the floor in the center of the room, never moving his eyes from her even in the dim lantern light. She reached for her belt and saw him tense almost imperceptibly, as if he was expecting her to draw a weapon on him.

She moved her hand away from her waist, bringing with her a large pouch of coins easily the size of a grapefruit that she clanked onto the wood in front of her as he sat in the chair. He glanced down at the sack before looking back to her face. She wondered briefly how well he could see her, but she knew she was well hidden within the folds of the rich purple velvet cloak that hung over her shoulders. The only piece of skin exposed to the man before her was the gap of her wrist at the end of her gloved hand peeking from beneath the black woollen dress she donned. The gloves and dress alike were dirty and tattered from weeks of wear.

"Quite the entrance, darling. To what do I owe the pleasure of your midnight demands?" His voice was deep and silken, tongue caressing every syllable he spoke.

"I seek passage aboard your ship. There's another purse just like it with your name on it upon my safe arrival. That should be enough compensation to whet your appetite, pirate." Her words were soft, yet direct. A hidden strength and confidence behind them. The man before her cocked an amused eyebrow at her audacity.

"Ordinarily, yes, but you still haven't disclosed to me the terms of this particular arrangement. Nor your name." He hadn't looked at the satchel again since she'd lain it before him. His cerulean eyes shone brightly towards her in the dark room.

"You can call me Swan." She replied tersely, not wanting to reveal her identity. She was, after all, the most sought after woman in the realm. Her name alone held far too much weight. Besides, no one had called her 'Emma' in months. She wasn't sure if that's who she really was anymore.

"What a peculiar moniker, luv." He remarked with a smirk, dimple forming at the edge of his cheek.

"A laughable observation from the pirate called Hook." She fired back and he grinned at her, looking down at the end of his wrist briefly for the source of his namesake. A metal hook adorned the space where a hand once was, the flickering light from the lantern catching its curve. "I simply require transport to Arendelle. I'll require a cabin and food, nothing more. Do we have a deal?"

The man in black before her stroked the stubble at his chin, examining her with a dark intensity. He rose from his seat and made his way back around the table to stand in front of her. Her pulse quickened, not knowing what to expect from him next.

"I must say, I am impressed. You've clearly heard of me and therefore must have an idea of my reputation. Yet, you travel here alone, in the dark of night, place a large amount of gold before me, promising even more and requesting my ship as your own personal ferry." He leaned back against the table and retrieved the leather purse beside him with his hook and depositing it into his hand. He bobbed his wrist, testing the weight against his palm. "You are either very stupid, or very brave."

She swallowed hard and clenched her fists at her sides as he stepped forward again. He took yet another step forward and she broke her gaze from his, looking downward and further concealing her face from his sudden closeness.

"I should like to think it is the latter, luv. I am most intrigued at this adventure. Consider this deal struck, Swan." He held out his good hand to her and she hesitantly placed her own leather clad fingers in his. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought her knuckles to his lips and pressed a kiss to them to seal the deal. Her skin prickled with goosebumps at the touch, even through her glove.

Three timid knocks sounded at the door.

"Enter." Hook answered, dropping her hand gently and continuing to gaze at her. The door opened slowly and Smee emerged from behind it, carrying a dusty green glass bottle and two silver goblets. He hastily clattered the items onto the table behind his captain and scuttled back to the door. He removed his hat to reveal a balding head and began to wring it in his hands, awaiting further instruction or dismissal. She could tell by the tremble in his thickly bearded jaw he would much prefer dismissal.

"Mr. Smee. I would like to formally introduce you to Miss Swan. She will be traveling with us." Hook informed his compatriot, who glanced warily from the woman back to his captain. He, however, did not move his eyes from the slight woman before him. "I would like for you to prepare a cabin for her. Report back to me when the task is completed and then we shall chart a course. We sail at dawn."

"A course to where, Captain?" Smee asked, eyeing the woman once more.

"Tell me, Smee." Hook turned to face the heavyset fellow and crossed his arms over his chest. "At what point did you come to find it acceptable to question your captain?"

The man's face paled and he stuttered through several apologies before the captain dismissed him bluntly. Emma moved to follow the scrambling man through the door but Hook's voice stopped her.

"What's your rush, luv?" He turned back to the table and unceremoniously uncorked the bottle of wine with his teeth, spitting the plug across the room. He began to pour the red liquid into the two goblets in front of him. "Come. Have a drink."

She paused and stared at the back of the man at the table.

"I don't imbibe." She replied curtly. There was something about this man. Even through her heavy disguise, she felt exposed to him. His head turned and he gave her a glance over his shoulder.

"Swan, don't make a man drink alone." He the corners of his mouth turned up slightly and he rotated around, extending a silver cup to her.

"I'm not in the mood for a drink. Or...a man." She flushed, grateful even more for her hood. Why did he affect her so?

"One drink, Swan. If we are to spend the next few weeks together, we should at least get to know one another. And I don't bite. Unless you want me to." He winked at her and she felt the heat creep up her neck as she was sure her face reddened even further. She said nothing, but reached out hesitantly and accepted the extended drink

"That's better." He looked quite pleased with himself as he sat down in the chair opposite her at the table that he had sat in before and motioned for her to sit in another. She sat on the edge of the chair furthest across the table from where he was seated, angled slightly away from him, back rigid, and took a sip of the wine in her hand. It was sweet and smooth, a delicacy she had almost forgotten these last few months. Even in her memories, she hadn't had a wine this good in some time.

"So. Arendelle. Running from something or running to something?" She could feel the heat from his gaze roll over her as she swirled the liquid in the cup.

"My reasons are my own." She replied quietly. He chuckled softly and scratched his chin with his hook.

"A bit of both, is it then, Swan?" He took a full leisurely drink of his own and looked at her intently through long, dark lashes over the rim of his goblet as he did.

"What makes you say that?" She felt her breathing increase, knowing he was right. Did he know who she was?

"Well," Hook stood and made his way around the table, leaning against it just in front of her. "Arendelle is a very frigid and quite distant location, which implies that there is something specific waiting for you there because why else would you want to go? And you clearly are trying desperately to hide what I'm sure is quite a lovely face for some reason, which implies you are indeed running from something. The question therein lies, running from and to what?" He placed his hand and hook on the table, leaning closer to her. Her breath stilled in her chest and she could smell rum and spice on his skin as he inched closer. Her careful grip was suddenly lost on the goblet in her hand as she watched him out of the corner of her eye and the cup fell into her lap, spilling its contents on her dress. He leaned back with a smirk and as she jumped to her feet with a shock. She frantically wiped her lap with her covered hands and he stood, walking to his desk, returning with a handkerchief.

"Do I make you nervous, Swan?" He asked, extending the scrap of fabric to her, eyes twinkling with mirth. She accepted it and began to blot the wet patch in her lap. "Or do you make a habit of bathing yourself in perfectly aged wine? Perhaps that's the reason for your flawless complexion." Emma froze at his words, hands paused midair as she realized that her hood had fallen away in her haste to stand and clean herself. She quickly raised her hands to pull it back up over her head, panic setting in her chest, but her wrist was quickly captured beneath the rough skin of Hook's palm. She looked up at him guardedly, her heartbeat hammering in her throat.

"A little late for that now, luv." He murmured darkly, and for the first time that night her bright green eyes met his fully. "I must admit I was wrong before when I assumed you were hiding a lovely face. You are positively stunning, Swan. Lovely couldn't even begin to describe you." He stepped closer to her and she tensed, eyes widening as she moved nearer to the table behind her in response. All manner of thoughts raced through her mind. Her monetary offering was paltry compared to the reward for her head. Queen Tamara would never let her see the light of day again. She had ran for so long and now she had lost. He was, indeed, a pirate and held no loyalty to her. She was slowly brought back into the moment as he swept his gaze over her figure before releasing her hand and reached up to tuck a wayward golden curl behind her ear. She felt electricity radiate through her skin as he skimmed his thumb along her jawline.

"You seem quite afraid for someone who so freely boarded my ship and requested the presence of my company for the next several weeks, luv." He spoke softly, his face inching closer to hers. She leaned back against the table further and he took a step closer to her again. The tension between the two of them was palpable.

"I am not afraid of you." She said, her voice barely cracking above a whisper, cutting through the strain like a butter knife through lead. She raised her chin defiantly as he curled his knuckle underneath it. He laughed low in his throat.

"You can lie to yourself, but not to me. Try something new, darling. It's called trust." His mouth was mere centimeters from her ear and she could feel his breath hot against the side of her neck.

Three knocks sounded at the door once more. Hook pulled back only slightly and held her gaze for what seemed like forever. Three more hesitant raps came against the wood again. He reached up with his hand and hook and gently pulled the fabric over her head, concealing her face once again before stepping away.

"You...you won't say anything...will you?" Emma asked, voice trembling slightly. Hook smiled softly at her.

"What's to say, luv? That I laid eyes on a beautiful woman with golden hair and emerald eyes that fancies covering it all for reasons that should be illegal? I'm not sure what you're running from, luv, but your secret is safe with me. I am a man of my word." Emma's hair tingled on the back of her neck as he spoke. She always had a particular knack for knowing when someone was lying to her and she felt herself relax as she was sure he was being truthful. She adjusted her hood again, making sure she was fully covered. To say she was relieved would be a massive understatement.

The knocks rang out through the quarters once more and the captain spoke, advising the man to enter. Smee stepped into the room briskly and shut the door soundly behind him, immediately removing his hat to twist it in his fists again.

"The cabin is prepared, sir." He said in a small, trembling voice.

"Excellent. Please show Miss Swan to her quarters and provide her with anything else that she needs. She is my personal guest and shall be treated as such." She could feel his eyes on her as he spoke, watching her walk towards his first mate with her composure mostly recovered. The man didn't appear to have a modicum of humility in his body.

"Aye, captain." Smee acknowledged and held the door open for Emma to walk through. She didn't turn back but paused briefly as she heard Hook's voice.

"Good night, Swan."

She followed Smee as he held a lantern aloft, leading her across the deck through the darkness and cold. She pulled her cloak tighter around her, even more wary now of another slip up. Even if the captain hadn't recognized her, which she wasn't entirely sure he hadn't, she couldn't take the chance that Mr. Smee or another crewman wouldn't. He continued to the opposite end of the ship and led her down a narrow, ladder-like staircase into a hallway. She accepted his extended hand as he reached the lower deck, completing her descent as well with his appreciated but unnecessary assistance.

They stopped at the first door on the left of the staircase and Smee opened the door, stepping clear to allow her entry. Emma was very pleasantly surprised. She hadn't expected pirates to be so chivalrous. _'Or clean'_ , she thought uncharitably. The room was modest but startlingly homey and spacious. A bed was built into the wall with drawers underneath it, almost making Emma chuckle at her notice of them. She wouldn't be using them. She didn't own enough anymore to fill even a single drawer. Just the items she wore. A porthole was embedded in the wall just above the bed, which was covered in a red and white quilt and looked more comfortable than anything she'd slept on in recent memory. A small table and two chairs were bolted to the floor on the right side of the bed and a bookcase filled to the brim with several texts to the left. The table had a covered tray resting on it and Emma's mouth watered almost uncontrollably at the smell of hot food.

She turned slowly around as Smee settled a lantern and a box of matches on the table. He reached across and uncovered the tray and Emma thought she might expire on the spot from the heavenly aroma now flooding the cabin. It was little more than a bowl of stew and some bread, but it was more than she had even seen in ages, let alone eaten. She fought back every primal urge in her body not to leap across the table and dig into the food with both hands, reminding herself that she was still a lady. She had gotten very good at stifling her hunger, but then again, she had not been tempted like this in some time.

"Will you require anything else, Miss Swan?" Smee asked uneasily and Emma responded with a swift 'no', effectively dismissing the pirate who bud her good night as well. As soon as the door closed behind him she rushed to it and clicked the lock into place. She shed her cloak and gloves in furious haste and, ladyship be damned, practically inhaled the food at the table. She felt a tear roll down her cheek as her belly settled into a full, warm satisfaction for the first time in many, many nights.

"Get a hold on yourself, _Swan_." She chastised out loud, bringing her fingers up to pull the pendant out from beneath the high collar of her dress and caressed it gently.

 _"To represent your grace and beauty."_ Her mother's words echoed in her brain as she traced over the tiny swan emblem on the necklace. She shivered at the memory of her mother's hands on her shoulders after she fastened it behind her neck, her father looking on with a smile. She shook her head briskly, ridding herself of the image. She was going to find them again. They always found each other.

Kicking off her boots and peeling away her stockings, her feet throbbed with the ache of walking for miles that day and every day prior. She unlaced the ties of her dress and slipped it off as well, draping it and her discarded cloak on the chair nearest to the bed. She moved through the room in only her underclothes, which bore a large red stain at her hips from the wine spillage earlier. She sighed and brushed it off. It wasn't like she had a lot of options in replacements. She would try to find a way to scrub out the clothing tomorrow, but right now, the bed before her looked more enticing than ever. Climbing into it and nestling her head against the downy pillow, drawing the cotton quilt around her body, she could not help the slight contented groan that escaped her lips.

Coherent thought began to elude her and she wondered briefly if she had made a mistake in coming to this ship at all. The last thing she saw as she closed her lids and let sleep overcome her were two of the most brilliant blue eyes she had ever seen before.


	2. Courage

Emma awoke to a loud rapping at the door to her quarters. She popped up in the bed, and looked around, panicked until she recognized that she was on the Jolly Roger. She breathed a sigh of relief and slowly noticed that she was more rested than she had been in a long time. Daylight flooded through the porthole, illuminating the room and everything in it. The cabin was almost cozy, at least she would have thought so under different circumstances. The wood was polished, the furniture well dusted. She wondered what kind of person might have stayed in here before her arrival.

She had slept so deeply and so soundly that it appeared she hadn't moved at all in the night. She needed only to step out of the warmth of the bed and pull back the red and white quilt to remake it. The wood beneath her feet was cold, sending a shiver up her spine as she set after her clothing. She could feel the smooth pulling and rocking of the waves on the vessel.

The loud, insistent knock sounded again. It was not the same precise knock she had already come to recognize from Mr. Smee. Fear set in the pit of her stomach again as scrambled for her dress and cloak. She had almost forgotten someone was at the door. She had just pulled the dress over her body when she heard fumbling at the lock. She dove into her cloak and retrieved her small silver dagger that she kept for protection and faced the door, prepared for a fight.

The door swung open slightly, not revealing the intruder and her fingers closed tightly around the hilt of her dagger.

"Swan?" A hesitant voice came from around the door. "Are you awake?" She blew out a held breath at the sound of Hook's words and set the dagger on the table. She grabbed her cloak and slung it over her shoulders, back to the door.

"Yes, come in." She pulled her hood over her head and heard the door click shut behind him. Killian moved towards the table, now dressed for the day. She caught a glimpse of the red vest he donned as his leather duster ghosted behind his sure footed steps. She watched as he set a tray of food and a satchel on the table and turned around. His mouth turned upwards, amused when he saw Emma.

"Good morning to you, too Captain." Emma watched him warily. His darkly ringed eyes swept over her form and that feeling she had when first meeting him crept over her again. It was like he could see her, clearly and truly see her, even through her carefully shrouded layers. It left her thoroughly unsettled, but in a way that she did not fear him. If anything, she felt a pull to the man. A force drawing her to him. Captain Hook was feared and well known to all, but she found herself oddly calm in his presence. His dark visage was something she wanted to study.

His ebony hair was still mussed, but almost in a controlled and purposeful way, flopping boyishly over his forehead and dusting his expressive, dark eyebrows. His lips framed perfectly straight, white teeth as they smiled charmingly back at her. A dimple even graced his cheek, barely seen amongst the neatly trimmed scruff that lined his jaw, reddish flecks adorning the mostly dark hair. There was a scar on his right cheek just below his eye, and she briefly wondered how he came about it. The black billowing shirt he wore was open at the collar, exposing a smattering of obsidian chest hair, skull and dagger pendants and a ring on two separate chains nestled safely amongst it. His vest was mostly hidden now by the heavy leather duster, and every muscle in his toned legs was on display encased in black leather pants. His hook glinted against the sunlight as he turned it with his good hand. Everything about him seemed well groomed and intentional.

She shook her head slightly and hoped he hadn't noticed her extended attentions on his form, but one look back up to his piercing blue eyes that were now dancing with amusement told her he had noticed indeed. She flushed. How could he have possibly known what she was looking at while her gaze wasn't even visible? Somehow he knew that he was the object of her scrutiny, she was certain.

"I've brought you clean clothes. Go ahead and change into them, you'll find them more comfortable and suited to the atmosphere. And the cloak is mostly pointless in my presence, don't you think, luv?" Emma's breath stilled in her chest as she watched the pirate move closer to her. He stopped only when the toes of his weathered boots met the toes of her well worn leather shoes. Her heartbeat thrummed resonantly in her throat but she made no move to stop him from raising his arms and slipping her hood away from her face.

"There we are." He smiled warmly and turned from her with a wink. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes as he moved towards the door. "Go ahead and change and I shall join you again in a moment." The door closed with a click behind him and Emma sighed. He was right, she didn't need to hide her face from him. He had already seen it and if he was going to do anything about it, he surely would have by now.

Emma made her way back to the table to retrieve the satchel from the table and noticed her dagger was still laying there, directly next to the tray of food Hook had brought. There was no possible way he did not see it, but still he left the dagger with her. It seemed he trusted her as well, she thought with a smirk. She shuffled through the satchel he had left and pulled free the garments inside, heading toward the wash basin.

After several moments, a knock rapped against the wooden door again.

"Come on, Swan. Let's have a look." Hook poked his head inside the door as Emma tried to adjust the top of the dress he had left for her to cover more of her skin, specifically her now excessively exposed cleavage. "Oof." His eyes grew wide with appreciation at the sight of her and she gave him an exasperated smile. "Now that's much better." He gestured to her newly outfitted curves as he made his way back into the cabin and shut the door behind him.

"Is this really necessary?" She complained, slipping her cloak around her shoulders again like a safety blanket.

"Those garments you had on have seen better days, Swan." He chastised. "They cry out to the world that you are running from something. What would you have done if someone had seen you dressed as you were, in those, shall we call them, well-loved clothes? Seen your face in them?" He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"My guess? Run." She said, fiddling with the leather ties at her bustline.

"And even if you had, if someone had seen your face, and recognized you for whatever it is you are running from, they may have taken matters into their own hands." He looked back at her pointedly.

"Someone is going to remember a glimpse of a face and be able to relay it accurately to someone who could actually do something about it?" She spoke skeptically, raising an eyebrow of her own.

"The point is to minimize you making a lasting impression and sadly dirty, torn spinster garb hasn't come into vogue, well ever." He replied, still watching her struggle with the dress.

"Fine." She relented. "Well, the only lasting impression I'm concerned about now is what this corset is making on my spleen." She grunted and stretched her torso to one side.

"Your discomfort is a cross I'm willing to bear." Hook replied with a twinkle in his eye. Emma did not fight the eyeroll that came to her this time. "And it is nothing compared to what might happen if you are discovered aboard my ship, which means proceeding with all caution." He stepped forward and laid the cloak on top of her head but away from her face. "You are not from a world of secret and shadow, I am. Even the smallest of suspicions could have catastrophic consequences. Things must appear aboard my ship as they always did." He nodded and turned back to the table. She felt like the slender fitting tan and cream colored abomination would split at the seams if she so much as breathed too hard. Yet, even under, and perhaps because of, his attentive gaze, she couldnt help but feel slightly attractive and she tipped her chin up as she walked back to the table after him.

He unveiled the hearty breakfast on the covered tray with a flourish, eliciting a small, almost hidden smile from the blonde as she sat in the chair nearest the bed. He joined her at the table at the seat across from her as she surveyed the amount of food in front of her.

"You cannot possibly expect me to eat all of this." She looked at him pertinently. "This is enough to feed a giant." He grinned.

"I wasn't quite sure of your preferences, Swan. So I instructed the cook to make a spread. Allow me to assist." He reached across and snagged a biscuit, taking a bite from it and nodding to her to begin eating as well. After spreading a cloth napkin in her lap, she began to eat carefully, acutely aware of the scrutinous gaze she was under from the pirate. When she finished, she placed the napkin on the table. Hook made no move to rise, but continued to study her.

"So when do we set sail?" Emma cleared her throat and broke the silence. Hook raised an eyebrow.

"We already have, luv. It is nearly noon." He stood and moved the curtain away from the porthole. Emma stood and hurried beside him. The greenish blue expanse of the ocean stretched as far as she could see. No land in sight. She was really leaving.

"Oh." She said softly and felt a wave of emotion engulf her that she wasn't expecting. This was the first time she had left Misthaven. Her home. She swallowed the feeling down immediately.

"Swan?" She looked up at him and his brow was furrowed with concern. She gave a quick smile and moved away from the window. He stepped away as well.

"How long until we reach Arendelle?" She asked, fiddling again with the ties of her dress.

"Well, the average ship would take probably around eight to ten months to make the journey." He rubbed his jaw, sufficiently distracted from her almost breakdown. "Luckily for you, we are not aboard your average ship. Nor do you have an average captain." He winked at her again and gave a slow smile. She shook her head with a smile of her own.

"And what does that mean in terms of travel time?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Six months, tops." He replied. "Now, the men have been informed you are on board, and you are not to be disturbed. You may walk around above deck, if you so desire. Do not interfere with the crew's duties. Outside of that, you have freedom to move about as you wish." Emma felt fear wash over her and she vigorously shook her head.

"No, thank you. I'll do just fine here." She declined quietly. Hook paused a moment, then moved slowly towards her.

"Who are you, Swan? Truly?" She met his gaze and bit her lip. Her face paled.

"I'm nobody you should be burdened with the knowledge of, Captain Hook." She replied steadily.

"Another time, then, perhaps." He answered. "For the record, my name is Killian Jones. No one calls me Hook aboard the Jolly." He raised an eyebrow again and then he was gone. Emma felt his absence as soon as the door shut behind him.

She made her way across the cabin and stopped at the bookshelf. Running her fingers over the rough leather of the book spines, she read the gold-laced titles she skimmed over. Most of them were nonfiction manuals and documentaries of sorts, but one did cross her path that rooted her to the very spot she stood in.

 _The Swan Princess._

She pressed the button on the side of the case and the small flaps on the top and bottom of the shelf sprung open, allowing her to remove the book. She clicked the flaps back in place and made her way to the bed to sit and read. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she opened the heavy cover of the book and began to read the words that were so familiar from her childhood.

 _This may appear to be your average fairy tale full of love and strife,_ it read. _But it is so much more than that. Here is a story of faith and courage, one that tells you that when you have hope, nothing can stand in your way._..

She had no idea how long she had been reading. It was so easy to lose herself in the leather bound familiarity of the story she had loved so much as a child. This voyage was weighing heavily on her mind. But nothing could stop her from doing what she had to do.

 _Patience and perseverance. That's what makes up one's strengths._ Her father always said. _And above all else, never lose hope._ Her mother would add.

It was a nightmare situation. This dark secret she was hiding, it tortured her every night and day. She was once heralded as the Savior, destined to protect the people of this land. Save them from whatever monstrosities came their way. And it is exactly what made her a target.

Tamara and Gregory had come from a Land Without Magic, though no one knew exactly how they had gotten there or why they seemed to be so hellbent on decimating everything in their path that had the slightest lean to the magic arts. Snow White and Prince David fought valiantly alongside the former Evil Queen, Regina, but they had lost. The castle fell to Gregory and Tamara's forces in less than a fortnight. The anti-magic weaponry they possessed was just too powerful. Emma, Pinnochio, her childhood friend, her brother Neal, and Baelfire, her betrothed, had barely made the escape from the castle alive.

Long before any of this had happened, Regina had sought revenge against her parents and had planned to enact a dark curse to remove everyone's happy endings. Thankfully, Snow White and David were able to reach the queen before she could do anything harmful, and, after a brief pseudo imprisonment for Regina (it couldn't really be called an imprisonment if she was locked in a comfortable room in their castle), she and her parents were actually able to set aside their differences and come together not only as allies, but as family. Emma had grown up knowing the woman as her step-grandmother, although her magic kept her looking remarkably young. She had taught Emma how to use her magic herself. Now Regina and the Prince and Princess, along with most every person she knew and loved were locked away in their very own keep.

And the betrayal from Baelfire after they had escaped...

No, she wouldn't think of these things now. She needed to get to Arendelle. She would be safe there. She could reclaim the kingdom. She could be the Savior everyone told her she was her whole life. This was her focus, her mantra, her driving force.

 _Arendelle. Save the realm. Arendelle. Save the realm._ She repeated in her head, clasping her swan pendant between her fingers tightly. She didn't even notice that every candle in the cabin had lit on its own and each flame was now levitating above the wax columns in their own little orbs of fire until a knock came against the door three times.

"M-miss Swan?" A timid voice came through the thick wood of the door and her eyes snapped open. She looked around and realized her unintentional magical display. She waved her hand quickly over the room, extinguishing the flames as she pulled her hood over her head to hide her face with the other hand.

"Come in." She instructed clearly and the door creaked open. Mr. Smee shuffled quickly inside and shut the door behind him. Emma's hand went to the dagger at her hip, just in case, her movements concealed beneath the fabric of her cloak.

"I apologize for the intrusion, miss." Smee removed his knitted cap and used it to wipe the perspiration from his brow and receding hairline before twisting it in his grip. "Captain Jones would like your company for afternoon tea. I'm to escort you." He shifted on his feet and Emma cocked a well hidden eyebrow. Tea? With pirates? How...absurd.

"I'm not feeling up to tea. Thank your captain for the offer." She responded, turning her attention back to the book in her lap. Before she did, she caught the man's complexion pale as she declined.

"Miss, I'm sorry, but the captain will insist-"

"Mr. Smee, I am not your captain's prisoner, ward, wench, crewman, or wife. I do not answer to his biddings." She interrupted, punctuating the statement by flipping a page. "I respectfully decline his _request_ for my company and I ask that you leave me be."

The man stood rooted to the spot, unsure of how to respond. She could tell by his reaction that Killian Jones was used to getting what he wanted and telling him 'no' was a fate the rotund first mate did not want to face. Emma felt a pang of regret for throwing the kind faced pirate into the lion's den, as it were, but ultimately decided she didn't care. There was no way she was leaving that cabin in broad daylight and risking being seen by one of the crew, despite the captain's previous reassurances that she would be safe on board. She turned her head so it was clear she was looking in his direction, despite her obscured countenance.

"Something else?" She asked. The man looked as if he was about to make another attempt to overcome her objections, but then thought better of it and scurried out the door. A sigh escaped her lips as she went back to reading. She couldn't concentrate on the words on the page. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, waiting for the captain's response to her turning him down. She didn't have to wait for long as she heard heavy, direct footsteps grow closer in the corridor outside her cabin. Without so much as a knock, the door came swinging open. Emma marked her page and snapped the book shut in her lap, turning to find Captain Hook standing nonchalantly, leaning against the doorway, Smee cowering behind him.

"May I help you, Captain?" She asked, doing her best to sound annoyed. It was hard to do when her pulse beat firmly against her windpipe.

"I believe you can, Swan. I requested your company because you and I have a great deal to discuss." He moved further into the room. Mr. Smee stayed exactly where he was just outside the door.

"Is that so?" Emma's voice lowered, bracing herself for anything that may come.

Hook nodded with a small smile. His eyes glittered with a sense of a predator stalking his prey. "It is so, indeed, Swan. Tea was merely a formality. And being that this is your course we are currently set upon, your presence is very much required." He stopped his advances just short of the bed.

"As I informed your flighty first mate, I have no interest in joining you anywhere." She replied, licking her lips. Her arm moved back to clutch at her dagger and his hand shot out like lightning, disarming her before she even got to the weapon. He tossed the silver piece across the room and the next thing she knew, he had scooped her up in his arms and turned, stalking out of the room with her cradled against him. Smee looked absolutely appalled as he hurried ahead of them to open doors.

"Put me down!" She pushed against him but his grip only tightened.

"Nonsense. I've carried rum barrels heavier than you." He grinned at her. "And you best stop your struggling, luv. Wouldn't want that hood falling away, now would you?" He lowered his voice so only she could hear. She immediately froze and her hands drew up to the fabric around her face, tugging it downward.

"Alright! I'll walk!" She acquiesced with a huff. He grinned wider and set her down.

"Splendid. After you, darling." He swept his arm in front of him and she stomped away towards the hatch to the deck, glowering at the self-satisfaction written all over his face.

Once on deck, she looked around. They were surrounded by an aquamarine expanse that stretched for miles around them. The wind was cold and laden with sea spray, but she couldn't help but feel a tingle of warmth from the sunshine that grazed her fingertips which were wrapped tightly around the hems of her cloak. It had been a long time since she had been out in the open in daylight, and one look around the ship reminded her why. Crewmen of all shapes and sizes were travelling about the deck, carrying out various tasks and she hurried ahead to the door to the captain's quarters. Hook and Smee were following close behind and the captain opened the door for her, ushering them all inside.

Smee set about serving tea for the two of them, clanking about delicate porcelain with his shaking hands. Hook motioned for Emma to take a seat.

"Please get rid of the cloak, Swan. It's quite distracting." He waved his hook dismissively at her. Emma eyed the stout man setting things in various positions on the table. Hook sensed her hesitation.

"William Smee is a loyal crewman. I would trust him with my life, and in fact I have, luv. You have nothing to fear here." He said pointedly. Emma said nothing but did move her hands up and unclasped the cloak fastening at her neck letting the fabric fall away. Smee did a slight double take as his eyes fell upon her face. His expression was not one of recognition, but more astonishment. Emma relaxed slightly, feeling as if her secret was at least safe with Mr. Smee. She still wasn't entirely sure about Killian Jones.

"That will be all, Smee. Please relieve Jackson at the helm. I will be up shortly." He dismissed the man who exuberantly scuttled from the room.

Emma stared at him in silence.

"I need more information on the destination of our journey." He said finally, hook turning the cup of tea on its saucer. "There are several different ports at our disposal. But I would like to avoid capture if at all possible. Arendelle is not very pirate-friendly, as I'm sure you're aware." He smiled and retrieved a map from his desk, holding it aloft with his good hand. He gestured to a port with his hook. "This port is most ideal, however, it does put us far from the city. It's an old fishery port, abandoned for years."

She raised an eyebrow at him, clearly questioning his need for her opinion on what seemed to be a quite trivial matter, but said nothing still.

"You know, most men would take your silence as off-putting, but I love a challenge." He raised his eyebrows and deposited the map back on his desk. Emma took a sip of the tea in front of her and looked back up at him.

"You're the experienced sea farer. Whatever you deem a good fit, I can work with." She said.

"It would help if I knew what you were trying to get to." The pirate rejoined her at the table.

"Why are you so interested in where I'm going and where I'm coming from?" Emma asked defensively. Hook paused and thumbed his lip.

"I find you infinitely fascinating, Swan." He admitted. "I cannot help but want to know more."

"Sorry to disappoint. May I return to my cabin now?" In reality, she could feel the now familiar tension grow between them as he made his admission. She wanted to tell him everything, to let him in. She wasn't sure why.

"Swan, you can trust me." He said softly, and she stood to make her way from the cabin. He stood as well, effectively blocking her from the door.

"Someday, I may find myself with the courage to tell you my story. But today is not that day." She gathered her cloak around her and moved past him. He made no move to stop her.

As she disappeared behind the closing door in a whirlwind of heavy fabric, he knew he was in trouble. The electricity in the air between them was hardly deniable. Not since his beloved Milah had he felt a pull like this to someone else. Now here was this blonde siren, surely singing him to his death. And he was damned to be unable to resist her call. She spoke of needing courage to reveal herself to him, but she was an open book in most aspects. He just lacked the specifics.

He couldn't resist the urge to get to know her better, even if he was sure it would kill him.


	3. Trust

The ship pitched and yawed with the ebb of the waves below it. The low creaks and groans of the wood as it settled against the surface of the water and the lapping of the sea against the sides were becoming steadily familiar to Emma's ears as she sat rereading the story she had discovered the previous day for the third time. Lantern light encompassed the cabin in a warm bath of orange flickering, giving her just enough sight to read by.

 _"Swan, you can trust me._ "

His voice echoed through her ears. She closed her eyes and exhaled shakily. Piercing blue eyes haunted the vision behind her lids and she snapped them back open. Why could she not get him out of her head? Why did she so thoroughly and readily _want_ to trust him? Trust was never something that had come easily to Emma. She could count on one hand all the people that she had trusted in her life and the only one she had trusted romantically had endeavored to betray her. Baelfire. The bastard. Not that she thought of _Captain Hook_ in any sort of romantic light. That would be taking things way too far. Way too much trust involved. She had bigger fish to fry.

Her thoughts were interrupted by three short raps against her cabin door. Smee. She didn't have to pull up her cloak hood, but her hand lingered on the fabric, just in case, as she bid him to enter. The stout pirate scurried inside and she relaxed. As usual, he looked perturbed at being in her presence, promptly removing his cap and wringing it in his grip.

"Miss Swan, the captain requests your presence in his quarters." Smee said quietly, waiting for her to comply.

"Of course, Mr. Smee. We wouldn't want a repeat performance of a tantrum, now would we?" Emma rolled her eyes and lifted her hood to conceal her face, noting the color drain from the man's own cheeks at her barb. They made their way in silence across the moonlit deck to the captain's cabin and found Hook already waiting for them, leaned against the door frame.

"Swan. How lovely of you to join me." A charming smile and slight lift of his eyebrow graced his face and Emma moved past him into the cabin without a word. He watched as she moved with poise across the room, lowering her cloak hood as she did. Hook's smile widened as she moved, knowing she was trying to meet his preferences.

"What is it this time, Captain?" She asked testily and turned around, a gasp catching in her throat as she found herself face to face with the grinning pirate.

"I didn't intend to startle you, Swan." He reached up and brushed his knuckles over the apple of her cheek, making her breath catch again, less noticeably this time but she was sure he had noticed. His hand dropped back to his side but he made no move to step away from her. The air practically crackled between them with electricity.

"You didn't." She replied, a little more breathlessly than she would have liked, moving away from him towards the table. She took a seat and lifted a cup of tea to her lips, watching him from the corner of her eye. He moved next to her and took a seat, lifting his own cup and taking a sip. "Why am I here, Hook?" She repeated.

"We will make port in an hour and head ashore at first light to stock for the trip. It is outside Misthaven's purview, so if you would like to go ashore as well and purchase your own goods, you should be safe." He replied, eyes trained on her.

"I am not safe anywhere." She suppressed a decidedly unladylike snort. Hook cocked an eyebrow at her and gave a brief hum of a laugh.

"I promise you, darling, wherever I am, you are safe." She dared not look at him while he spoke, but she could still feel the blazing heat from his blue gaze. There was silence for a short moment before he spoke again. "I can escort you, if you like."

 _No. Absolutely not. You are not leaving this ship, you madwoman._

"Alright." She murmured and immediately furrowed her brow, wondering exactly what she was thinking when the foreign sounding voice spilled from her lips.

"Fantastic. Remain here, Swan. I'll relay orders to Smee to head up the supply run." Hook stood and headed towards the door. Emma's mind screamed at her to take back her acceptance of his offer to be her escort, shouted for her to stop him, and her mouth even dropped open to speak, but no words came. She simply watched him walk out of the cabin, shutting the door behind him.

Anxiety set in her chest.

 _What the blazes were you thinking, **Swan**?!_ Her inner voice screamed at her. She had to tell him when he came back. She had to put a stop to this. She couldn't go off this ship until she reached Arendelle. Even that was taking a risk. Every second he was gone, she felt her anxiety level rise until she had reached the throes of full-blown panic. All of a sudden, she couldn't breathe. It was as if something heavy were sitting on her chest. She fought the need to claw at her throat as her breathing became more and more rapid. A cold sweat burst from her pores and her vision began to tunnel. Placing her sweating palms on the cool wood of the table, she slammed her eyes shut, determined to get a handle on things before he returned and counted her breaths in and out. This was ridiculous. She hadn't had a panic attack in over seven years, not since she was fourteen and she'd discovered her powers by almost burning down a tree in the palace gardens.

"Well, now, this is interesting." Hook's voice was low with intrigue and Emma's eyes flew open, taking in the sight of him as he closed the door she hadn't noticed opening in the first place behind him. The next sight she rendered was heart stopping. Everything on the table she had her hands pressed against was now floating in midair, a magical result of her panic attack. Her stomach dropped as she hastily lifted her hands and the table contents clattered noisily back onto the surface. This was it. She was done for. He was sure to recognize her now. Queen Tamara would certainly execute her as Killian Jones sailed off into the sunset the new owner of untold riches.

A short sob caught in her throat and her gaze fell to her lap. She heard the pirate sigh heavily and then his footsteps grew closer as he moved to her side. He paused there, as if he was unsure of what to do, and then she felt his fingers curl around her wrist. He pulled her to standing and her breath stilled in anticipation. She felt the beginnings of panic renewed settling in her abdomen. She was just about to reach for her dagger when his arms came up and...wrapped around her, pulling her into a hug. She froze.

"Wh-what..." She managed to stutter out. He shushed her softly and cradled her like she was something absolutely precious. What was he doing?! He knows she has magic. He knows Misthaven's policy on magical beings, was he feeling guilty? Was he going to turn her in? Why was he holding her like this?! She had to run. There was no question. She wasn't safe anymore. She would just have to find another way to Arendelle. Although now she had no more money to work with. The other half of the pirate's reward was waiting for her in Arendelle.

"Everything is alright, Swan." Hook murmured in a voice far gentler than she ever thought he was capable of. She wasn't sure what scared her more, the fact that he knew her secret, or how much she _wanted_ to trust him, but absolutely could not.

"Yes." Emma whispered. "Everything will be alright." She felt the familiar hum of energy begin to tingle beneath her skin as she charged magic into her hand. Hook didn't even know what hit him until it was too late.

A beam of light shot out of her palm and pinned the pirate against the wall to their left near his desk.

"Swan?" Hook grunted out, confused. "Bloody hell, stop this."

"I can't take the chance that I'm wrong about you." She replied, fear coursing through her features.

"Alright, Swan. Good for you. You bested me. I can count the people who have done that on one hand." He said, taking short breaths against the column of magic pushing into his abdomen.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" Emma snapped and stepped closer to him, increasing the pressure of the flow. He growled, straining to free himself.

"Swan, I told you once. Your secrets are safe with me. Stop this and we can forget this happened." He tried to reason with her, but Emma was beyond reason. Her thoughts boiled to overflow in the midst of her panic attack.

"No. Just...be quiet. I'm keeping you here until we dock. Then I'm getting off. You keep the gold." She said quietly, almost to herself.

"Swan, _please_." He ground his teeth and looked at her pleadingly.

Emma squeezed her eyes shut. What was she doing? She had never attacked anyone unprovoked. Ever. This wasn't her. What was she becoming? This whole situation had turned her into a shadow of her former self. Being alone, afraid, scrimping and clawing for everything she had, betrayal, it had all taken a toll on her, one that she didn't know how to recover from. Emma snapped her eyes open as Killian grunted again to find him wriggling against the wall, almost freeing himself.

"I don't want to hurt you." She whispered, tears welling in her eyes. His own eyes darted back to hers, blue burning from the depths.

"Just...let go, love. We can work this out." He offered as gently as he could under the strain. Emma's mouth fell open to speak when a voice shouted from overhead.

 _"Drop anchor, men! All ashore that's going ashore!"_ Smee's voice called out. He sounded clear and in control. Much different from the mousy man she had come to know in her and Hook's presence. Her attention piqued at the sound, eyes casting towards the door.

"Swan." Hook tried to draw her back, knowing she was on the verge of running. She was too far gone, engulfed in her fears. The ship slowly lurched to a halt. Her eyes blinked in thought a moment longer and then flashed back to his.

"Swan, _don't-_ " His words were cut off by a stronger blast of magic that knocked him into to the desk next to him. He groaned soundly as Emma's skirts swished around her legs and she drew up her cloak hood, fleeing from the room onto the deck. She stopped dead in her tracks, momentarily frozen at the sight on board.

Dozens of crewmen swarmed the deck, securing the rigging, furling the sails, and performing various tasks to ensure the ship was well docked. Her gaze flitted from left to right, looking for an exit. Several of the men passed by her and looked at her curiously, causing her hand to slip beneath her cloak and clutch the hilt of her dagger. She moved smoothly and silently across the deck, head down as much as possible and headed towards the newly constructed gangway leading off the ship. Hopefully she could just slip off the vessel undetected and without pause.

"Miss...Swan?" A voice inquired from behind her, causing her to hesitate for just a brief moment before barreling ahead at a quicker pace. Before she could get two steps away, a thick hand closed around her arm and she spun around quickly on the ball of her foot, drawing her dagger and pressing the tip of it into Mr. Smee's neck. The man's eyes blew as big as saucers.

"What..." He whispered, a terrified tremble in his voice. Emma instantly felt guilt coil in her stomach but she couldn't stop now.

"I'm disembarking, Mr. Smee." She informed him, voice clear and low. "Do not follow me." She began to back away slowly and the pirate nodded, swallowing thickly as the dagger retreated with her and back into the folds of the velvet surrounding her. She turned and ran full speed across the deck and down the ramp, disappearing into the night.

The door to the captain's cabin flew open and Hook emerged, clutching his side and seething. Smee immediately ran to his captain's side but the man waved him off, annoyed, making his way further onto the deck.

"SWAN!" He bellowed into the night, frustration oozing from his tone. The activity on the deck paused for a moment at the sound and every head turned towards him. A quick icy glare from their captain set them back to work. He limped forward and Smee moved to help him again. Hook stopped and snatched the man by the collar, growling into his face. Smee backed away slightly, understanding.

"Captain, what's going on, sir?" Smee asked warily. Hook ignored him momentarily and stomped forward, teeth clenched and grunting with every step he took.

"The Swan girl is running." He gritted out from behind clenched teeth. "She has just become a very preferable ally and I would like her retrieved unharmed. She is in danger." Hook didn't look back at the man as he spoke, shaking off the pain of being slammed around his cabin and trying to regain his footing.

"Yes, sir." Smee replied without hesitation. "We'll find her." He turned and starting rounding up men for a search party, leaving Hook to his thoughts.

"I'll keep you safe, Swan." Hook murmured to himself, staring out into the darkness and turned to head to the assembly of men and lead them out in search.

Emma's feet pounded against the rock hard dirt beneath them as she ran towards the town, searching for any clue as to where she was. She ducked down dark alleyways and his behind buildings, avoiding every person who crossed her path. She had no idea where she was going. Her frantic thoughts were well concealed in her careful, practiced movements. This is something she had become skilled in. Hiding. Running. Being alone.

She slipped down one more alleyway and found herself in front of a tavern. This would be as good a place as any to get her bearings. Most people would be too inebriated to pay her any mind and she could find out where she was and where she was going. Emma pulled the hood of her cloak tightly around her and made sure her face was well concealed before she stepped towards the doorway bathed in lantern light. Inhaling a long, steadying breath, she opened the door and slipped inside.

Hearty laughter greeted her along with the sounds of music and the clanking of tin mugs. It was a typical tavern, filled to the brim with drunken men trying to best one another at cards or dice or arm wrestling, and painted women draped over half of them. Emma moved swiftly through the crowd, avoiding attention until a brawl broke out in front of her. A large, burly man stood from his chair and advanced on a shorter man with dark hair and a chagrined smile.

"Let's...let's be reasonable here..." The smaller man said, backing up with an harmful of coins, wavering bravado in his voice.

"You're a damn cheat, Will Scarlet!" The large man thundered and he cocked his neck to one side, vertebrae cracking. He clenched a meaty fist and swung at the man who deftly ducked out of his way and tumbled behind Emma. She made to move but the man called Will Scarlett shoved her forward into the large man and made his escape. The cheated man's face blazed with anger and he pushed her aside roughly, tearing out the door after the thief. Emma was shaken and backed right into someone else. She spun around, wanting no more trouble.

"A-apologies, I..." Her words died in her throat as she looked up into a face she thought she'd never see again.

"Emma." The man breathed and his lips curled into a sinister smile.

"Bae..." She whispered, rooted to the spot. She couldn't believe her eyes. Baelfire stepped closer to her and she remembered herself finally, backing away.

"I've missed you, Emma." He said slowly, following her as she moved backwards towards the door.

"You didn't. You're just trying to claim Tamara's reward for me." Emma replied, anger biting in her tone. "Well it won't happen today." He lunged for her but she was quicker, darting away from his grasp and heading towards the door. She burst out into the cobblestone street and kept running, but Baelfire was hot on her heels. She pulled her skirts up further and kept running, feeling her cloak hood fall away. She couldn't stop to adjust it. She had to keep running. She hesitated at a fork in the road for just a moment but that was enough for Baelfire to finally catch up to her. He wrenched his fingers in her hair and she cried out in pain. She scrambled to reach for the dagger at her hip, but Baelfire got to it first, rending it grim her grasp and slicing her palm open in the process.

"Go on, Emma. Use your magic. Right out here where anyone could see you. Use it and get away from me." Baelfire snarled in her ear. She couldn't summon her magic through the cut skin of her right hand if she wanted to. She knew she was not going to have a choice to get away from him, though, so she resolved to use her left to subdue him. Baelfire caught on to her thoughts before she could enact them and a sharp pain lanced through her left hand as well as he drew the blade across it, causing her to scream and his hand left her hair to clamp over her mouth, drowning out the sound. She was at his mercy.

"Oh, Emma. You naive little princess." He chuckled darkly. "Like I didn't see that coming." He spun her around to face him. "Now you're going to come quietly or I'll kill you and claim the reward on your head."

Emma raised her chin, defiant and furious. She spit directly in his face. He chuckled again and raised his hand swiftly, bringing the back of it down hard across her face. She crumpled to the stone below, ear ringing, tasting her own blood in her mouth. She spit on the ground again to rid it of the flavor. Baelfire stooped before her and seized her hair again.

"Don't ever disrespect me like that again. You got it?" He said dangerously and Emma stared hard back at him.

"You're a disgrace." She hissed. "Traitor." He let the dagger in his hand fall away, metal ringing against stone, and brought his hand up and slapped her again.

"You stupid, silly girl." He growled before hitting her a third time. "Tamara is queen and I'm a faithful servant to the crown." He hit her again and her vision swam. "You're not a princess anymore, Emma." His hand connected with her face again and she raised her arm to protect herself as he made to strike again, but the blow never came. A sharp pull came to her hair, ripping out several strands as he seemed to float away from her.

"It seems there is an issue here that needs resolving." A familiar, yet darkly dangerous voice permeated Emma's haze.

"Mind your own business, _pirate_." Baelfire gasped out. An arm came around Emma's shoulders and tugged her cloak hood up over her. She looked up and saw Mr. Smee looking down at her with a warm smile. She was too rattled to feel anything but gratitude.

"Oh, see that's quite interesting that you would use that terminology, mate. That woman there _is_ my business." Hook said and Baelfire grunted in pain. Emma turned her head and saw Baelfire pressed against the brick wall beside them, the pirate's hook pressed into his throat. "Not only that, but I don't take kindly to cowards." Baelfire hissed in pain as he dug his hook further into his flesh.

"Don't hurt him." Emma asked softly and Hook's head spun round. His blue eyes practically glowed with anger but softened as he gazed down at her.

"Smee. Escort Miss Swan back to the Jolly. Bring her to my cabin." He instructed and the man helped her to her feet.

"Aye, sir." He said and pressed her forward but she reached out and touched the captain's arm.

"Please, just let him go." She begged. His eyes locked with hers.

"He hurt you, Swan." The pirate countered.

"Please. I'll go back with you quietly." She asked softly. Hook's eyes softened further at her request. He turned back to the man whimpering against the wall.

"It appears luck is with you, today, coward." He growled into Baelfire's face. "If I ever see you again, I will not be so kind." He shoved the man to the ground and stepped back. Baelfire scrambled away, not even turning around to look back at them.

"Shall we?" He said with a grin as he turned around. He strode off in front of Emma and his first mate back towards the docks. Mr. Smee ushered her along after him.

What had she gotten back into.


	4. Honesty

**A/N: Hey gang! I'm back! I'll be posting updates more regularly now hopefully now that things are starting to calm down a bit. I've got most of this story planned out so things should go a lot smoother. This is a little bit of a shorter chapter, but it was a fun one to write. As always, I can't wait to know what y'all think! Thanks for reading! xo**

Emma followed Hook up the gangway, not knowing what to expect. Her face and palms were throbbing from the brutality she suffered at Baelfire's hands. Her cloak was secured back around her face and head the second he had agreed to take her back to his ship.

How could she have been so foolish as to run off on her own? She had no idea where she was, no plan of escape, and she was running from a pirate. All things that worked against her. Every part of her overreaction to her accidental revelation had been a colossal mistake. Hook would have understood, wouldn't he have? Emma shook her head. No, she couldn't have been sure of that then. She wasn't even sure of it now. But he was her best chance. It was asking quite a lot from Emma to trust someone again, but people do unexpected things when left with few options. She had good instincts. She had yet to detect a lie from the man. She felt good about her decision to return. She could only hope she wouldn't live to see herself regret it.

Silently, they moved together, Emma sandwiched in between Mr. Smee and the captain, towards the Hook's own quarters. He opened the door and bowed, a grand sweeping gesture, to usher her inside. She walked past him, head down, lips pursed and to her surprise, he shut the door behind her as soon as she cleared the doorway. She could hear him speaking in hushed, gruff tones to the first mate and she briefly wondered what they were saying. The thought left her mind, however, when she took a better look around the cabin.

Papers were still strewn everywhere, chairs wrenched from their bolts on the floor and the table completely barren, its contents littering the floor. It looked like the cabin had been wrenched through by a tornado. This was her doing. She hurt him, a man who had been nothing but kind to her.

 _A pirate, not a man_. She reminded herself. _Pirates cannot be trusted_.

She felt a pang go through her stomach at her own rationalizations. She found herself once again wanting to trust in this particular pirate, despite her better sensibilities. Most often when they were alone, she caught a glimpse of the man behind the hook and bravado. A glimpse of the real Killian Jones. A sad, lost soul, hurt by unfathomable darkness. But when he looked at her, she couldn't help but see a spark of light ignite behind his eyes.

 _Don't be ridiculous. He's being paid to keep you well. And now he knows your secret..._ Emma chastised herself. She wandered to the far side of the cabin, lifting her hands to put some semblance of order back to the cabin with her magic but pain shot through her hands like fire when she tried. She sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation, looking down at her sliced palms in dismay. Why of all the ports in all the realms did Baelfire just so happen to be at this one? And the look in Hook's eyes... If Emma hadn't stepped in when she did, he would have surely killed him without a second thought.

The door to the cabin swung open and Hook made his way into the room. As always, the space suddenly felt much smaller with him in it, as if no room was big enough to hold his personality. He approached Emma cautiously, as one would a wounded animal, and her heart sank a little. She didn't want him to be afraid of her. She turned towards him, careful to look downwards within the folds of her cloak.

"I suppose we should clear the air." She offered quietly. Hook hummed a sound that was almost a chuckle.

"Aye, that's definitely the course of action we should take." Hook replied and picked up two chairs, righting them and sitting in one, motioning to the other for her to take a seat. She sat as requested and folded her hands as best she could with her wounds. A soft growl came from the pirate and she looked up to see him rise and move towards her. Fear caught in her chest as he reached up towards her face. She visibly flinched away, waiting for his touch, but it didn't come. She looked back up to him and his hand was suspended in midair. The intensity of his blue eyes almost took her breath away. He moved again, slowly and pulled the cloak hood away. Emma closed her eyes and ducked her head away at the sharp intake of breath he sucked in as the fabric fell away.

Moments of silence passed. Emma wasn't sure how long they sat there, silence looming over both of them.

"Swan." She barely heard the strangled whisper of her moniker. When she turned her face up to meet his she wasnt prepared for the fury in his gaze. His irises burned like bright cerulean lava.

"I'm going to kill him." He murmured, almost to himself. "I should have never let him go."

Emma was shocked. He wasn't mad at her? He was angry with Baelfire because she was hurt? This didn't make any kind of sense. Why would he care about her wellbeing? He turned abruptly on the heel of his boot and began shuffling through his cabinet noisily in search of something.

"Captain, I-" She began.

"Killian, love." He interrupted softly, still focused on his task.

"Pardon?"

"I think we're past formalities, Swan. Call me Killian." He replied and turned back towards her with a jar in his hand. He moved briskly and pulled his chair towards her, sitting in front of her. He shook out his arms and uncorked the jar with his thumb. Rolling up his sleeves, he dipped a finger into the contents. "Continue."

"Right... Well, _Killian_ , I just want to apologize for-" She cut off her words with a sharp inhale as Killian began to apply the pungent contents of the jar to her face.

"Apologize for..." He prompted.

"What the hell is this stuff?" Emma seethed. It smelled like the compost bin in the kitchens and Emma's stomach churned as he dabbed at her wounds.

"A salve. To reduce the swelling and assist with healing. Apologize for what, Swan? Please, continue." Emma stared at him as he continued to dab at her face with his fingers and the cream like substance. He nodded after another moment, clearly pleased with his handiwork. He wiped his hand on a nearby scarf and leaned forward on his knees, looking to her expectantly. Emma caught sight of a tattoo on his inner arm, something that looked like a heart with a dagger through it and a name. _Milah_? She thought that's what it said.

Emma swallowed thickly before speaking. "I cannot apologize enough for my...actions..." She said softly. "I don't deserve your kindness after what I've done..." She cursed herself internally for the waver in her voice. She tilted up her chin to combat it and Killian smirked in response.

"Aye, well, that was quite the surprise." He chuckled. Emma flushed out of embarrassment and even a small amount of irritation.

"Its not exactly something I advertise." She replied bitterly. Killian's features softened at her tone.

"I imagine not. Just who are you, Swan? No more secrets, no more lies. You have my word that you will be safe." He reached up and tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. She felt an electric jolt at the brief contact. Emma took a shaky breath. What else did she have to lose? Honesty. That was the only way to redeem herself. Killian waited patiently for her to begin.

"My name...my real name is Emma. I'm being sought by the queen because I have magic. That man, Baelfire, he was my betrothed. He...betrayed me and tried to turn me over to the queen's men. I ran and got separated from my brother and friend. I need to get to Arendelle to regroup and save my family. Arendelle is protected for magic." The words poured out of her and she was far beyond able to stop them. It was... _most_ of the truth. He didn't need to know she was a princess or who her family actually was. The pirate before her didn't say anything. He just sat and stared with those too blue eyes, eyebrow cocked with intrigue, emotion unreadable. It was so odd to Emma to want to trust him. She was very good at reading people and there was just something about Killian Jones that she couldn't seem to pin down. He was familiar to her but at the same time, the most fascinating enigma.

"I can tell there's more, Swan, but that's good enough for now." Killian replied softly and it didn't escape her that he still used her moniker. Out of habit, she immediately reached for her necklace to fiddle with it but hissed in pain as she tried to close her hand. Killian's brow furrowed and he reached out to take her wrist gently. He examined the wound and clicked his tongue against his teeth. Emma studied his face as he reviewed the wounds on her palms, first one, then the other. His blue eyes were bright and fiery with anger. He looked up at her face and started at finding her gazing intently at him.

"Killian, I'm sorry." She whispered, tears threatening her words and lingering at the edge of her jade colored eyes.

"Oh, love." He immediately softened. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I failed to protect you. I promised you would be safe." The shock Emma felt at this pirate's words were nothing compared to the shock she felt when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. He pulled back and met her gaze again and the atmosphere in the room became immediately charged. Somewhere in the back of Emma's mind, she realized he was still holding her hand. They stared in silence for a long time, a myriad of emotions flickering through Killian's eyes.

 _Say something, you fool! Say something!_

Emma opened her mouth to do precisely that but didn't get the chance.

"Sod it." Killian growled and then his lips crashed into hers, his hand tangling in her golden curls at the base of her skull. Emma gasped at the action and Killian, pirate that he was, took advantage, letting his tongue slip past her lips and stroke against her own. It took a fraction of a second and she was kissing him back with just as much fervor and passion. She felt a buzzing beneath her skin like she had never felt before. It felt like when she called on her magic, but warmer. Stronger. She hummed against his lips as he kissed her again and again and again. He finally broke away, near panting, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Emma." He breathed. It was the first time her true name passed his lips and Emma froze. He felt her change in posture and pulled back, apology on his lips but then he, too, froze and looked at her in shock. Her eyes widened at his expression and panic began to rise in her throat. Killian looked over her face and then pulled her hands up with his own hand and hook and his strange expression was finally explained.

The slashes that marred her palms were gone. She stood abruptly and Killian stepped back to avoid colliding with her as she dashed off to look in the mirror on the wall. Her face was completely healed. No bruising. The splits on her cheek and lip were sealed flawlessly, not even a trace of a mark.

"How is this possible?" Emma whispered. Her mind flitted back to when she was sixteen years old.

 _Emma ran through the castle with her brother. They cut towards their goal and Emma hitched up her skirts as Neal gained on her, laughing gaily. She was winning their footrace and the open garden doors were just in sight. She threw a look back over her shoulder with a smirk and the twelve year old's face went from smiling to terrified in a heartbeat._

 _"Emma, look out!" Her brother cried out but it was too late. She turned back to the open doors to find a great rolled rug sitting in the doorway. Emma tried to stop but found she couldn't. She tripped over the rug and went flying. On instinct, she threw out her hands to brace her fall and felt the sharp cobblestones immediately cut gashes in her palms. Then she felt the bone in her forearm snap. Emma screamed out in pain and two guards and the nearby maid came running towards the commotion, helping Emma to sit._

 _"I'm f-fine." She stuttered out and lifted a marred hand to heal herself but nothing happened. Her magic couldn't channel through the damaged flesh. Emma started to panic as the pain intensified._

 _"Mama! Papa!" Neal skittered down the hallway after her parents as Emma cradled her broken arm to her chest._

"...Emma?" Killian put his hand on Emma's shoulder tentatively. She turned around with awe on her face.

"Killian, I'm not sure what just happened. I've never been able to heal myself if my hands are injured." Emma murmured, turning her hands over and over, trying to make sense of it all.

"Well, maybe your magic just finds me irresistible." Killian replied with a smirk and Emma's head shot up. She immediately quashed the voice in the back of her head that whispered _'true love'_ because, how ridiculous. The tension grew between them again and Killian broke it with a cough. Emma stepped past him and surveyed the still destroyed room. Wordlessly, she raised her hands and the overturned items began to levitate and right themselves. Soon the cabin was back to the original setting and Emma let out a shaky sigh.

"Spectacular." Hook said from behind her, his words barely above a whisper, as if he'd made the statement to himself. His voice was laced with such deep admiration that Emma flushed, avoiding turning around to face him. That didn't deter the pirate, however, and he stepped up behind her with only a fraction of space between the two of them. "You're a bloody marvel, love." He murmured. At that, she did turn to face him and his bright blue earnest gaze slammed into her with the force to take her breath away. No one had ever looked at her like that, not Baelfire, not anyone. It was too much. She had a job to do.

She cleared her throat. "So, you will still assist me?" Emma's voice was soft but full of determination. Killian's brow furrowed at the sudden change in atmosphere but nodded in response.

"Aye, love. Nothing's changed."

She nodded, even though she knew he was wrong. Everything had changed. _They_ had changed. He knew her secret. That _kiss_ changed things. She cautiously stepped away from him, not looking back, and made her way around him to the door. Even though she couldn't look at him, she could certainly feel his gaze on her. That kiss _definitely_ changed things. Damn.

"I think..." She stalled. He didn't need to know _exactly_ what she was thinking, per se. "I think I'd like to go back to my cabin, if I may." She finished softly. Silence was her only response for several minutes. Emma fingered, wondering if she should just excuse herself.

"No. Have a seat, love." Hook's voice carried to her and her head snapped around. He held her gaze and gestured to the now righted table and chairs in the room. Emma, who had never taken an order from anyone in her life besides her parents, couldn't help but obey him. She moved cautiously back to the table and sat. He smiled, appeased.

"Well, lass, magical antics aside, we still do need to gather supplies tomorrow. If you still wish to accompany me, I would enjoy your presence. But I understand if you would not wish to. In my stead, I can post a guard." He offered sincerely. Emma stared at him with cautious regard. Baelfire was still on the loose, still a present danger to her. She didn't want to rock the boat any further than she already had.

"I think it best if I remain here." She replied, her diplomatic roots unfurling in her tone with the simple sentence. He nodded, accepting her answer. Emma was grateful he didn't press any further.

"I'll ask Smythe to stay and keep post while I'm ashore then. He's a good man. I trust him." He stood and Emma followed as he walked to the door. He motioned for her to stay put as he exited the cabin, leaving Emma alone with her thoughts.

Unbidden, almost unnoticed, Emma's freshly healed hand made its way to brush her kiss swollen lips. She'd been kissed before, but never like that. She'd never felt something spark inside her at the touch of lips against hers. Now that the spark was lit, it burned, a dim glow in her belly waiting for a gust of wind to truly ignite it into the raging wildfire it had the potential to become. She needed to find a snuff for this ember, and fast. There was no room for attraction, lust, or love on this journey. Wait, _love_? Was she out of her mind? She barely knew the man and that was the second time that word had popped up out of nowhere. Even if she wasn't in the midst of a war on her family, the last time she had trusted someone, it had ended so badly. She couldn't, no _wouldn't_ , subject herself to that again. She obviously didn't know a thing about love to be fooled so badly by Baelfire. What this was with Hook was a fleeting attraction. It would pass. It had to.

The door to the cabin opened again abruptly, yanking Emma from her reverie. Killian seemed more serious than when he left, but his eyes lit up again once they found Emma. The burn in her stomach threatened to ignite at the sight.

He gave her a tired half smile as he moved towards her.

"Mr. Smee will escort you back to your cabin but I'll come see you in the morning before I go ashore." He stepped into Emma's space and her breath caught in her chest. Her lungs held faster to the air within them as he leaned forward and tugged her hood back over her head. "Who knows, Swan. Perhaps if you're a very good girl, I'll bring you something back." The salacious bastard winked at her and the glow in her belly erupted into a full on inferno. Feeling her face color with heat and blood, she nodded curtly, not trusting her own voice to respond.

His final words to her that night as reached the door to open it would play like a lullaby long after she'd tucked herself into her bunk.

"Good night, love. Emma."

Fleeting attraction, indeed.


	5. Friends

**A/N: Soooooo I honestly intended to have this chapter up two weeks ago, but editing it has been a nightmare. I had severe writer's block writing this and it kinda feels like a filler chapter to me. Hopefully it doesn't read that way because it does have some important moments. It's a little bit of a longer chapter, though, so yay! Anywho, on with the show! Reminder! I'm still in need of a beta! Let me know if you're interested!**

Emma had always loved the sea. Something about it centered and calmed her. When she was a child, her father would take her brother and herself on various diplomatic missions within the kingdom and sometimes even beyond. The ship voyages were amazing. She felt wild and free, bobbing on the waves. No responsibilities, no worries, no villains or curses or evil. Just her and the spray of the sea and the crash of the waves beneath her. If she could, she would live on the sea forever.

"The most important rule about being a monarch is to realize that you are no more or less important than anyone in the kingdom." Her father had told her once when she was only ten years old. They had been helping rebuild a village and tend to the injured personally in a village that had survived an ogre attack. Emma had been whining that she was tired and hungry, but King David had redirected her gently with that simple statement. "You find your center and you push on. Never forget your duty to your people and your people will never forget theirs to you."

Emma felt most centered at sea. Which is why it was killing her to be so close to the fresh salt air right outside her window and be unable to feel the mist on her face. She paced her cabin much as a caged animal would. Even if she wanted to leave she couldn't, not with the burly Mr. Smythe guarding her cabin. She'd only gotten a glimpse of the bear of a man as Smee left her cabin that morning, but she didn't want to even think about chancing sneaking past him and not being seen (and possibly recognized). Even if Killian allowed her above deck, she couldn't take that chance. So she paced, chewing on her thumbnail. What would her mother say if she saw such manners? Emma dropped her hand immediately at the thought out of sheer reflex and smirked at herself. But then the hollow pang of sadness set in when she realized her mother couldn't see her chew her nails. She wasn't on a mission with her father and she couldn't ask him for his words of wisdom. On this ship full of sailors, docked in this bustling port, Emma was alone.

Three knocks sounded at the door.

"Enter." She called out, reaching to brush her fingers on the hood of her cloak out of habit even though she knew it was Smee. The portly first mate scurried inside and shut the door, removing his hat and putting it through the familiar twists in his palms as he always did in her presence.

"Miss Swan, the captain has just returned. He would like you to join him for dinner in an hour." Smee stated. The poor man always seemed as if he were one good spook away from losing his mind entirely. Emma nodded and smiled warmly at the man.

"Thank you, Mr. Smee. I'll ready and see you soon." She replied and the man bobbed his head and slipped back out the door.

It had been a long day in her cabin, most of it spent pacing, but she suddenly felt the urge to bolt the door and never come out again rather than face the man who kissed her senseless only the night before. She couldn't afford to spend energy fending off his advances (or mind her own, for that matter) when the kingdom was at stake. But she knew avoiding the captain would only earn her a repeat performance of caveman sensibilities and she would face him anyways. Best to do it on her own terms.

Emma made her way to the table and smoothed out the skirt of the borrowed dress she was still wearing. It's not like she had a wardrobe full of options. Those days had long since passed. She was just grateful to be out of the thick black woolen dress she had worn aboard the first night. That poor thing had far outlived its lifespan. She's sure that this dress will also. So much for borrowing. She was sure he didn't mind, or at least that it was covered by the gold she supplied him with. She finally chanced a glance up at the mirror, taking the silver hairbrush that rest on the table up. It was one of the few things she had from her former life. She brushed at her golden curls absent mindedly until three raps sounded at the door again. The hour had gone by much more quickly than she had expected. She bid Smee entrance as she secured her cloak hood over her head and they made their way to the captain's cabin in silence.

Killian Jones was a bloody fool. He paced his cabin, waiting for the blonde temptress to be escorted to him, racking his brain for something to say to her. That kiss was stupid. Emotions had been running high with Emma's magic, Baelfire's attack, and tending Emma's injuries, the kiss was borne of that. Nothing more. He was not about to throw himself at the first woman he'd allowed on his ship since...

No, he wouldn't go there. But maybe he could be her friend? It had been a long time since he had had a true friend. Had he ever had one? Liam was his brother, and then there was Milah, but she was an entirely different story altogether. Smee was, well, Smee, and the crew were his subordinates. Honestly, he didn't think he had ever had an acquaintance with another that wasn't built on necessity. It was very lonely. Liam and Milah only existed in his memories now, and he craved human interaction beyond barking orders and fucking a random bar wench. Emma, though. She was different. He knew the more time he spent with her, his attraction would only grow. But like a moth to a flame, he was near helpless to resist her pull. She understood what it felt like to be alone. Maybe they could ease each other's burdens. He would start with the gifts he'd gotten her on shore as an olive branch of sorts. Friends gave each other gifts. It was fine.

He was a bloody fool.

When she entered his domain, his back was turned to her. He was looking at a map spread out of over the table, lost in thought. The light of the setting sun glittered off his umber hair, illuminating the valleys where he had apparently been running his hand through it. His shoulders were slumped as he studied the maps and charts before him. He finally straightened and ran his hand over his features. He looked pensive, completely lost to his own musings. Much as she had been. Better to get the awkwardness over with.

"Hello, Captain." His head popped up at the sound of her voice and a grin spread over his features.

"Good evening, Miss Swan." He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms across his chest and his leg over the other. Cocky and confident as always. Mr. Smee excused himself and shut the door firmly, leaving the two of them alone.

"Hungry, love?" Hook asked, gesturing to the spread laid out for the two of them. She moved silently to the table, unclasping her cloak as she went and draping it gracefully over the back of a chair. Killian's heart swelled at the act of trust and comfortability in his presence. She sat herself and gathered her golden tresses over one shoulder, exposing the long line of her neck and Killian wondered briefly how the skin there might taste.

No, dammit.

He was to be her friend. How soon in his dreams had gold replaced chestnut, and pale blue been exchanged for green? He set his jaw, resolving to put some distance. He'd already allowed himself more liberties than he should have. Giving her Milah's dress was another big mistake. Seeing the familiar material tight against her pale skin had seemed like a good idea at the time. The lass needed clothes and he had some. But Emma was much curvier than his slender Milah, and filled out the dress in ways he hadn't expected. He shook the thought from his head and sat down to join her and bring up his newest idea now that they were safely at sea for a good portion of their journey.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me Captain?" Emma asked, blotting her mouth with a cloth napkin after swallowing a bite of the food before her. "If you stare at me any harder, you might drill a hole in my head." Killian's brow pinched and he looked at her, only to relax at seeing the teasing in her eyes. He plastered on a lady-killer smile.

"Actually there is something I'd like to discuss with you, Swan. I think it's time to meet the men." He grinned and she sputtered on the food she just put in her mouth. Emma scrambled for her drink to clear her throat as she continued to hack. Hook stood nonchalantly and made his way over to her and thumped her on the back one firm time. Emma coughed into her napkin and promptly sucked down half of the water next to her plate.

"Darling, you must learn to chew your food better." He tsked at her and she shot him a death glare from over the top of the crystal goblet.

"You are out of your mind."

"It's true, Swan. Very bad manners. Not to mention a health hazard."

"You know what I meant, Hook." Emma snarled and his brow arched, eyes darkening slightly.

"It's Hook again, is it now, love? I thought we'd moved past all that business. And if this is about you being introduced to my men, we will soon be at sea for the next two months. My men already know you're aboard and in light of the recent violence you've experienced, I would feel better if you had several sets of eyes tracking your wellbeing, not just my dashing own." He reasoned, sitting again and taking another bite of his own food, chewing exaggeratedly. This earned him an eye roll and a quick huff.

"You're forgetting one thing, Captain." She hissed. "I would have to agree to meet your men and I am not willing to do so. I apologize I cannot give you a better insurance policy on your cargo."

"You are not just cargo." He growled, banging his fist against the table and Emma startled at the unexpected noise. His eyes blazed and fist clenched briefly. He cleared his throat and steeled his expression into something resembling relaxation, but Emma could still read the stiffness in his shoulders. "What I mean to say is, Emma, I have come to value our... time together, and should like to think we may have even graduated from acquiantancehood to friendship?" It came out like a question and Emma had to blink against the intensity of the radiating vulnerability in his heartbreakingly blue eyes. Emma nodded slowly.

"I should like to think we are friends as well." Emma acquiesced, the word feeling somehow incorrect on her tongue. Killian's responding smile could have lit up the night sky.

"Excellent. Then you'll meet the men." He looped back around succinctly. Emma made an exasperated sound in her throat and dropped her head back.

"Killian. I'm a fugitive. And please don't take offense, but your men are _pirates_. I am just worried if someone recognizes me, turns me in, I would never see the light of day again." Emma's gaze dipped to her hands that were now clasped in her lap. Killian huffed.

"Emma, you must know by now that I would never do anything to put you in harm's way. I hand picked each of my men and trust them implicitly. We are outside Misthaven's purview. And we hadn't been there in... some time. Honestly, darling, you could be the queen of the bloody place and my men would likely not know the difference." He waved his hook dismissively and Emma froze. He couldn't possibly know... could he? One glance at his passive face as he fiddled with the stem of his own water goblet told her that it had just been a comment. An unrelated comment. She felt an overwhelming feeling of guilt for hiding her secrets from him, and the sensation puzzled her. She had lied about her identity tens of dozens of times and never batted an eye. But here in the captain's quarters aboard the Jolly Roger, in the presence of Captain Hook himself, no less, she felt the need to confide and reveal. It was going to be a long trip. She couldn't say more, but perhaps within the context of their proximity and what had already been revealed, she could be his friend.

 _Try something new, darling. It's called trust._

"I have some stipulations." She found herself saying.

"I thought you might."

"You are never to use my real name. You can introduce me as Miss Swan."

"Of course, love."

"I won't wear my cloak on the ship, but I will in any town."

"Reasonable."

"The men are not to believe that we are together in any way."

"Ouch, darling. I'm not all that bad. If you're amenable, perhaps you can find out for certain." He gave her a grin that was dripping with lascivity. She smiled a reprimanding smile in return.

"Those are my demands, Captain." She responded, effectively sidestepping his teasing.

"Aye, love. I am agreeable to your terms." He held out his hand to shake. When she gripped it in return, he brought her knuckles to his lips with a featherlight kiss that sent ripples of goosebumps up her arm, a reaction that didn't escape the pirate who looked back up to her with a wink. That earned him an eye roll and hasty retrieval of her limb.

"Alright, Killian. I trust you, then." She said softly but she didn't miss the way his grin widened.

"Alright, then. I've something for you." He stood and it was Emma's turn to look surprised.

"You got me something?" She asked, not so much skeptically as in disbelief. He shot her a look over his shoulder, a smouldering quirk of his brow accompanying a now almost shy smile. Emma lifted a brow of her own. Captain Hook, shy? Never.

"Aye, love. I told you I would." He retrieved a large burlap sack from near his bed and placed it next to the table, motioning at it with his hook for her to open as he cleared their dishes from the table.

It had been a long time since Emma had received a present. In fact, the last present she could remember receiving was the ring Baelfire bestowed upon her when he asked for her hand. After that, everything had gone to hell and they had traded the ring for food and clothing. All of that was gone now too. Emma took a shuddering breath and reached for the bag, untying it with deft fingers and pulling free the contents.

In front of her on the cleared table now lay three new blouses, two sets of breeches, a hairbrush, undergarments, a delicate white corset, soaps and small vials of rosewater and oils (for a bath!), and a set of hair ribbons. Emma gaped at all of the items in her lap. He had thought of everything she might need. It wasn't often that she was left speechless, but she found herself searching for words.

"And one more thing, love." He moved to his wardrobe and pulled it open, gathering more material in his hands. He presented her with a beautiful dress, rich garnet red in color, lace covering the sleeves and bodice, skirt made of satin. "I saw it, and couldn't resist. I'm actually quite partial to red." He scratched behind his ear in uncertainty. Emma's mouth dropped open as she accepted the material. She hadn't worn something this nice since the palace. It must have cost him a small fortune.

"Killian... this is too much..." She protested meekly and Hook shook his head and waved his hand again, shirking her weak attempt at rejection.

"Nonsense. You deserve this and more." His blue eyes were sharp with sincerity and it almost took Emma's breath away. "Now, let's introduce you to the crew, and perhaps we can spend tomorrow evening in a local tavern in celebration of our last night in port."

Emma's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Let's start with meeting your crew and we can see how it goes." She had already taken more liberties than she should be taking out of trust for a man she shouldn't be trusting. Hook stood and made his way to the door and bowed his arm in front of him as he opened it, allowing her exit. She nodded and took the first steps into the dying daylight uncovered by her cloak that she had taken in three long years.

"Captain on deck!" Smee's voice rang out loud and clear as they emerged from the cabin and all activity on the ship came to an abrupt halt. Emma began to fidget and fight down her desire to just run. Just when she feared giving into the urge, she felt a gentle tug on her arm. She rended her gaze from the crew and settled on blue eyes, looking down on her with reassurance. She felt much calmer as she took his proffered arm and made her way beside him to the ship's helm. Murmurs broke out through the gathering throng of men as they made their way to the wheel.

"Quiet, you nattering school girls!" Smee barked, and Emma was more than impressed with his tenacity, given his behavior before her. Hook gave her arm a final squeeze and dropped it to her side again with a pat of her hand with his hook before stepping forward.

"Men, as you know, we've had a visitor amongst us for the past week. Let this be your formal introduction to Miss Swan." He looked around the ship as the men began to excitedly speak again. He could feel his jaw muscle twitch at the way they cared their necks and bulged their eyes, trying to get a peek of her porcelain skin. "Miss Swan is my personal guest and we are being paid quite handsomely to escort her to Arendelle. She has free reign to do as she pleases whilst aboard, and she _will_ be treated as you would treat your captain. If any harm befalls her on this voyage, you will be keelhauled without a second thought. Do I make myself clear?"

A chorus of "Aye, cap'n!" rang out over the deck.

"Good. Smythe, Jackson, Smee, with me. The rest of you lot are free to go ashore." Killian dismissed them all to a resounding cheer. He placed his hand at the small of Emma's back, leading her to the center of the quarterdeck Emma was amazed at how easily he slipped back into being the ruthless pirate captain he was known to be. When he was alone with her, he was flirtatious, funny, sometimes shy and warm, but never this direct and sharp. It was almost as if she saw a part of him he hadn't let anyone else see. She pondered that as the three men came towards their position. Smee was the first to approach and immediately removed his red hat, giving Emma a slight dip of a bow that Emma returned with a nod of her head. The other two men followed suit in removing their head coverings and stood awaiting their captain.

"Swan, this is Oliver Smythe and Thomas Jackson, the Jolly Roger's cook and quartermaster, respectively. Smee, you've already met. These men I have been with since the start and I trust above all others. Gentlemen," Killian turned his attentions to his men. "I primarily entrust Miss Swan's care on and off board this ship to you. If Miss Swan needs anything at all, you are to ensure it is taken care of."

"Aye, sir." Said Smythe. He was the man that had guarded Emma's bunk earlier. He was tall, well over six feet, and his thick, bushy blonde hair reached the center of his back. His full beard was darker than his hair and his pale blue eyes twinkled with mirth. His face was round and rosy but the rest of him was built sturdy. With all of his muscles though, Emma couldn't help but feel like he wouldn't hurt a fly. Unless provoked.

"Aye, cap'n" the quartermaster, Mr. Jackson, agreed. He was shorter than Smythe, but not as short as Mr. Smee. He had hair that was black as night, cropped close to his head, salt and pepper colored wisps sprinkling his temples. A thick dark gray mustache lined his thin lips and his skin was wrinkled and weathered. He had a slender frame and dark, warm eyes that Emma found comfort in.

Soon the conversation drifted to supplies that still needed to be obtained in the next day and Emma found her view drifting out over the water towards the sunset on the horizon. She didn't even realize she was moving until she had reached the rail. Leaning against the wood, the whole world began to fade away. She let the mist of the waves wash over her face, and filled her lungs with salty air. She felt her center returning in that moment and she wrapped her arms around herself in semblance of a hug. She could have stood there forever in the twilight, listening to the crash of the waves and the creak of the wood beneath her feet.

"Cold, love?" Killian's voice appeared near her ear. She hadn't even noticed she was shivering until that moment. A beat later and heavy leather settled over her shoulders. It smelled just like Killian and Emma felt her stomach do a somersault at the scent. "Why don't we get you back to your quarters? Or would you prefer to have a round of cards with me and the lads instead?" Emma wasn't nearly tired, and she knew all the other men were ashore. The safest place for her woukd be where everyone left was.

"Cards sounds alright, I suppose." She said noncomittally. He grinned at her and swept his arm out.

"After you, Miss Swan." He waited until she walked past him and followed. Smythe, Jackson, and Smee were all already waiting for them when they arrived and Killian led them all into the cabin. The four men shuffled inside and Smee, dutiful as always, began setting up the game. She stopped short of the table, shrugging off the heavy duster onto a waiting rack, where only four chairs lay.

"Ye can take me place tonight, Miss." A rumbling voice sounded behind her and she looked up to see Mr. Smythe standing close and he winked.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly. I've never played-" She began.

"Nonsense, lassie." He interupted and pushed her towards the table by the small of her back. "I'll be teachin' ya."

"Oh...okay..." She replied, uncertain, and let herself be led to the space next to Mr. Jackson, catty cornered from Smee and directly across from Hook. She glanced up to see if she would truly be welcome and found Smee and Jackson to be looking at her with warmth. Hook's face, however, was an unreadable, carefully schooled mask. There was tension in his shoulders and jaw that betrayed his cool, calm exterior. Emma briefly wondered if he was upset she was playing, or if maybe he was just competitive. Either way, she would have been more comfortable watching.

"It's yer standard 5-card stud." Smythe said, setting a small sack of coins next to Emma. He pulled a stool next to where she sat and began to explain the rules. "It's very simple. Ye want the same suit, the numbers to be in a row, or cards of the same kind. Ye have one chance to exchange the cards in yer hand for ones out of the deck, however many ye want. People are gonna bluff and it's yer job to watch out fer the liars. Understood?"

"I think so..." Emma replied.

"Good. Cap? Yer deal?" Smythe looked to Killian and Emma lifted her head as well.

"Aye." Was all he said, with a curt nod to his head. Emma lifted an eyebrow. She had not seen him interacting with his men before, but for some reason, she felt like he was being especially cold. The men seemed to pay it no mind, however, so Emma let it be. Killian picked up the deck of cards in the center of the table and began deftly shuffling them in his single hand. Emma was enthralled by the movement and when she looked back up at his face, she knew he noticed her watching in amazement by his smirk and the twinkle that had reappeared in his eye.

"I've adapted quite well to any number of circumstances with my remaining hand, love." He threw her a salacious wink and the men chuckled. Emma bristled.

"Well, _Captain_ , let's see if you're as good at bluffing as you are at shuffling. I'm very, very good at spotting liars." She gave him a sweet smile of her own.

"We'll see about that, darling." He said, dealing out the cards. As she lifted the cards to view them, Smythe leaned back in.

"Now, ye have a good start here. See these two queens?" Smythe murmured low in her ear and Emma nodded. "We're gonna keep these lasses and exchange the rest. Bet two to start." He nodded to the coins. She tossed the coins in the center of the table and glanced at the other men, immediately fishing out their tells. Smee was practically squirming in his seat, he had a good hand. Jackson was a little more stonewalled but she caught the pinky twitch when he called her bet. He was bluffing. Killian was stonefaced, scowl firmly in place and called the bet as well. A quick bite to his bottom lip told that he had a good hand. Round they went, into the game.

"See the way Smee wriggles like a worm on a hook lassie? He's gonna be your competition in this hand." Smythe mumbled into her ear and Emma giggled. The distinct sound of leather squelching and the scratch of wood caught her eye and Emma looked up and saw that Killian's hook had delved under the table. Was he digging his hook into the underside of it? His eyes connected with hers and she saw anger there before he darted his vision away. She furrowed her brow and pretended to think as she accepted the cards she'd exchanged from him. To her absolute delight, of which she kept in check, she got another queen and two aces.

"Ye've got this round for sure, lassie. Watch out for slipped aces, though, yer playin' with pirates after all." Smythe whispered again and Emma smiled at him. He smiled warmly back, a smile that was kind, not unlike one she would receive from her father. She felt much more comfortable than she expected to around these pirates. She tossed a larger raise into the circle and Jackson folded immediately. Smee raised and Killian and Emma both called. The cards were revealed and Emma had won.

"Lads, I'm bushed." Killian said sharply as Emma collected the pile of coins in the center of the table. Emma looked up at him quizically, the lie clear in his voice. "I'm going to look at some things and go to sleep. We'll pick this up tomorrow. Head out to your duties." He grumbled and stood abruptly from the game. Smee sorted the cards and bobbed his head and practically ran from the room. Jackson huffed and bid his farewells also and left, mumbling about winning it back tomorrow. Killian was already looking over charts and maps and effectively ignoring everyone. Emma wasn't sure what had brought on this mood change, but she wasn't going to question it in front of his men. Instead, she turned back to Mr. Smythe.

"Thank you for teaching me how to play, Mr. Smythe." She offered sincerely, extending her hand with her winnings in it. Smythe held up a plank sized palm in rejection.

"Keep it, lassie, ye've earned it. And you can call me Ollie. Come see me in the galley if you get hungry or need anything." He winked at her and she smiled back, bidding him a goodnight as he exited the cabin. She quite liked him. It could be good to have a friendship with someone on board who she didn't feel so... charged around. And speaking of which...

She turned to speak with Killian but found his back to still be turned.

"Killian?" She asked, softly.

"Good night, Miss Swan." He replied tersely and Emma was taken aback. Not only at his cold tone, but at his use of her moniker even though they were now in private.

"Have I offended you somehow, Captain?" She asked sharply and he sighed deeply.

"No, love. I'm just tired." He lied.

"Then why are you lying to me?" She called him on it and he turned.

"I'm not lying. Go get some rest, Swan. We've a big day tomorrow." He dismissed her again. She wasn't going to take this sitting down.

"Not until you tell me what's bothering you. Is it the men? Jackson? Smee? Ollie?" He snorted on the last name.

"Not at all. You're free to _fraternize_ with whomever you please." He scoffed. And it hit her.

He was _jealous_.

Of Smythe!

"Killian." She prompted and he turned back to his maps. She stepped around him into his space. "Killian, look at me." She tried again and he begrudgingly drug his gaze to hers.

"I'm going to go to bed. But I want you to know that I have absolutely _no_ intention of fraternizing with _any_ of your men. Smythe seems more fatherly to me than anything else." His gaze softened and he gave a slight nod. Against her better judgement, Emma stepped even further towards him, budged up on her tiptoes and kissed his stubbled cheek softly. His eyes darted to hers in surprise.

"Good night, Killian." She whispered and, gathering her cloak, left to her own cabin.

Killian stood, dumbstruck, fingers drifting to the spot where her lips had just been pressed. He couldn't help but feel jealous each time Emma had smiled or flushed at something Smythe whispered in her ear. He wanted to be the one whispering in her ear, making her flush everywhere, hearing her laugh surround him. But he had resigned himself to just being her _friend_. He felt a knot in his gut at the thought.

Bloody hell, he was done for.


	6. Denial

**A/N: *peeks out from behind curtain* Hi! Sooooo it's been a minute since this was updated and for that, I apologize. but here's an extra long chapter to make up for it! I have no excuse except that real life has been kicking my ass recently, but I promise to really try to update more regularly. As always, thank you to everyone who is still with me on this journey and an extra special thank you to my fabulous beta kmomof4 who I appreciate and adore more than words can say. Reviews are always appreciated! Enjoy!**

TRIGGER WARNING FOR ATTEMPTED SEXUAL VIOLENCE

The sun had yet to break the horizon, and Emma was already on deck. She sported the white blouse with the laces in the front, tan breeches, and her new boots. Her plum velvet cloak was still at her shoulders and her dagger at her waist. She was ready to show that she meant business and could work alongside these men, earn their respect, and hopefully they would learn to accept a woman on board their beloved ship. She was excited, brimming with anticipation and nervous energy, but also still so very guarded and afraid. What if the men _didn't_ accept her? She had Killian's blessing, as well as his most trusted men, but the rest of the crew was different. And then there was Killian himself. She felt so completely trusting of and safe with him, and that's what made him the most dangerous of all. She pushed the golden rope of her braided hair over her shoulder and made her way to the helm where the captain stood brooding out over the rays of dawn.

Killian stared out over the water. It was milder than it had been for the last couple of weeks. The bitter cold of winter was finally coming to an end, but thick gray clouds were rolling in from the west, threatening to drown out the sunrise at the opposite end of the sky and what little warmth it had brought with it. Another day, more on his mind than he could process at once. The water calmed him, as it always had since he was a wee boy. His life had never been easy, but the water was a constant that he was grateful for. He could read the ocean better than anyone else he knew. It had always been a special talent of his. He felt connected to the water, its untamed beauty and energy unmatched by any other force in his life. Until Emma. Emma was so like the sea, and perhaps that is what drew him to her the most. Not since Milah had he wanted to make a connection with another person like he did with Emma. He never thought it was an option for a pirate like him. Chances to live and love like a _normal_ person were few and far between for seafaring men, especially for those living outside the law. Milah had been the exception to the rule. And then the blasted crocodile Rumpelstiltskin, the Dark One himself, had taken her from him. Crushed her heart and took his hand, all in one fell swoop and his life had been consumed by revenge ever since. But when the Dark One was locked away by Queen Snow White and King David, Killian had lost his purpose. The crew had been wandering aimlessly, taking merchant ships at will, mooring in extravagant ports in far off places, living a life of indulgence and splendor like he had always promised his men they would. It all felt hollow to Killian. The women, money, and booze didn't keep him warm at night like his Milah had. But now there was Emma. Emma and Milah were so similar, the same fiery spirits, the same tenacity and bravery, but they were also so different. Emma was different. Milah trusted him so willingly, ready to do anything he asked or commanded. Emma questioned everything, and Killian loved the challenges she posed to him. He thrilled over every new piece he learned about the mysterious woman who he had taken under his charge, each piece to the puzzle like a hard-won treasure. And pirates loved treasure. He shoved the thought of his lost love back into the precious recess of his heart where he usually kept her memory as Emma approached him.

"Captain," she greeted. Her cheeks were tinged pink with the cold and he wanted to pull her into his arms to warm her but stowed the thought immediately. He met her determined gaze with a default smirk.

"Miss Swan. Up with the birds today?" His hand came up to adjust her cloak hood back a little further to better see her features and she relaxed slightly at the motion, relieved that he no longer seemed angry with her for the night previous.

"I suppose my first day on deck should be met with some measure of enthusiasm." She smiled a teasing little smile and that made Killian's grin grow wider.

"Aye, I suppose so," he agreed. "We've not much on the agenda today as we head out tomorrow morning. The lads will be loading the rest of our supplies on board and then the lot of them will enjoy their last little bit of time on shore for the next few weeks this evening."

"What should I do?" she asked, and he quirked a brow in response.

"What do you mean?" he replied, genuinely confused. He didn't expect her to know the first thing about sailing or cargo. But then again, there were many enigmas Emma Swan held.

"I want to help. I'm not some lay about looking for a free ride." Her chin lifted, and he could see what surely must be her high-born roots showing again. He smiled at her, openly pleased at her insistence.

"May I remind you that you have already paid for this voyage, love? There is no need to callus those pretty hands," he replied, and Emma bristled, eyes narrowing at the pirate.

"I'm no stranger to hard work, Captain. And I haven't paid, not in full. I like to earn my keep. Gold alone does not run a ship," she reminded him, and he squared his stance towards her, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Be that as it may, Swan, I have fifty men in my employ that do the job quite nicely. What is to become of their livelihood if I assign their tasks to you? I'd have a vessel full of lay-abouts and that simply won't do." He grinned at her, thoroughly amused with her rising irritation.

"Surely there is more than enough work to go around for all of us. Perhaps I'll see if Ollie needs help in the galley. He seemed quite fond of me last night." She bounced on the balls of her feet and his smile faded into almost a grimace as his jaw clenched at the memory of Ollie's familiarity with Emma in the brief time they had interacted. Emma had to suppress a smirk at the subtle change, knowing she had struck that jealous chord inside of him again.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to find _something_ for you to do here on board. That way I can…keep an eye on you." He nodded as if confirming this for himself more than Emma and she couldn't fight the smile any longer, ecstatic that she had won the exchange.

"Fantastic." She clapped her gloved hands together. "I am going to the galley for a moment to see about something to eat, though. I'll be back before you know it and you can give me _something_ to do," she replied, mocking his previous tone and he gave her a wry smile in response. She kept finding new ways to best him at every turn and it both incensed and enraptured him. _Oh, yes. Emma Swan is going to be trouble,_ he thought to himself as she turned and headed below deck to Oliver Smythe's domain.

"Lassie!" Smythe's booming voice rang out against the wooden walls of the galley as he spotted Emma entering the area. "To what do I owe the great honor of yer lovely presence today, m'dear?" he asked jovially between heavy chops of the cleaver in his meaty fist through the heads of cabbage before him.

"Good morning, Ollie. I've persuaded the captain to give me some duties on deck today, so I wanted to see about getting something to eat before I get that started." Emma fished an apple out of a barrel near the chopping block and Ollie paused the heavy _thunks_ against the wood and vegetables, looking up at her with surprised eyes.

"The cap'n gave _you_ a task on deck? You. He gave one to _you_? Cap'n Jones did? _Killian_ Jones?" he asked, utterly flabbergasted.

"No matter how many ways you ask it, it will still be the same, Ollie." Emma chuckled and wiped the piece of fruit against her cloak before chomping into it, wiping the juice that dribbled down her chin with the back of her hand. "I can be very persuasive," she said with her mouth full, hoisting herself onto a table to sit and eat her small breakfast.

"Aye, a regular charmer ye are." He chuckled and went back to chopping. "And what is it he'll be havin' ye doin'?"

"I'm not sure yet. We haven't worked out the details." She shrugged, and Ollie grinned. "I'm sure I'll be of use somewhere." She hopped off the table with a bounce and gave Ollie a big grin as he shook his head.

"Ye mind yerself out there, lassie." He pointed the cleaver at her and gave her a stern stare as she back towards the door. "Cap'n has himself a good crew with good men, but we are still pirates."

"I appreciate it, Ollie, and I will. I might not look like much, but I can handle myself." She smiled softly again, and he nodded in response.

"Get on with ye, then." He went back to chopping with a smile and Emma made her way back on deck.

Aboard the ship, the rest of the crew was already gathering for the day, heading to the water troughs and ale barrels, mostly, but Emma almost ran smack dab into someone as she exited the galley.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Emma exclaimed and instinctively pulled her cloak hood closer to her face.

"No, no please. I'm the one who should apologize. The captain's woman has been on board one day and I've tried to run her down already," the man responded, voice laced with trepidation. He was thin, much thinner than any of the other bulky men on board. His shaggy brown hair hung in his eyes, which Emma could only describe as _beady_. His smile was much too big for his face, but he seemed friendly enough. Emma held up a hand in appeasement.

"It's really fine. And I'm not the captain's…anything." Emma felt her face flush at his misinterpretation of the situation.

"Oh, my mistake. But I still sincerely apologize for running into such a beautiful lady. I'm Walsh." He extended a hand to her. She took it and he brought hers to his lips for a kiss to the knuckles. His sloppy, overeager lips on her skin made her stomach twist and she had to fight a twitch in her nostril that expressed her disgust. Now uncomfortable, Emma opened her mouth to politely excuse herself but a booming voice coming from over her shoulder caused her to spin around.

"WALSH!" Killian bellowed out menacingly over the deck, not even bothering to disguise the venom in his voice, causing all activity to stop. His jaw was clenched so tight, Emma wondered how he got the word out at all. Even from their slight distance, she could see his eyes blazing with cerulean fire. Despite his demeanor, which every man aboard, especially the man next to her, cowered from, she felt relief and relaxed her stance, pulling her hand back to her. "DO I EMPLOY YOU TO MAN THIS SHIP OR TO FLIRT WITH THE CLIENTELE, YOU BLOODY, BUGGERING BILGE RAT?"

"Aye, sir! Apologies, sir!" Walsh scrambled around Emma, almost knocking into her again before darting into the galley and out of the Captain's immediate sight. Emma made her way cautiously to the helm, feeling Killian's eyes on her the whole way. As she ascended the few stairs to the quarterdeck, Killian was already on his way to her as well.

"That was quite the display, Captain Jones," Emma greeted him coolly. His jaw set in a hard line.

"Aye, well, I won't tolerate bad form on my ship, and Walsh shouldn't be drooling over you like you're a piece of meat." The fire in Killian's words had died slightly, but not the fire in his eyes. It caught Emma off guard to see such concern for her, even though she had only known him for a short time. She relaxed and leaned against the banister at the edge of the section, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Alright, Captain. Where would you like me today?" She decided the best course of action was just to move on with the day. With the simple question, she could see the concern begin to die in Killian's eyes, and mischief begin to filter in. She narrowed her eyes at him when she sensed this change.

"I have something perfect."

 **~XOXO~**

Emma glared at the Captain as he walked by her with a smug smile. She was in the process of tying yet another series of knots in the ropes next to Smee, who was attempting to guide her way between her venomous glances at their captain. Killian chuckled to himself. The score was evened once again. The men were loading cargo at an accelerated rate, wanting to be able to spend as much time (and coin) onshore as possible before they were waterbound for the next three months. And Killian began to feel the anxiety claw at his chest that he didn't expect. For the first time, he felt like he was trapped on this ship, trapped with the first woman aboard his beloved ship since Milah. Trapped with this growing... _affection_.

Falling in love with Milah was like stepping into the ocean in springtime. First you dipped your toes in, then you walked in slowly, acclimating to the cold water, then finally you submerge yourself fully, letting your body meld with the waves. Falling for Emma was completely different. It was like tumbling headfirst into icy winter waters, the shock of it startling and refreshing, and suddenly Killian understood why they called it _falling_ in love. _Love_?! Love. Bloody hell! He had fallen helpless into her orbit, unable to resist her magnetic aura. He felt like Icarus, flying too close to the sun, but he would happily burn for the brief euphoria of the flight.

Killian looked back to her scowling at the rope in her lap, getting further and further frustrated with his blustering first mate and his attempts to educate her at her designated task. Yes, he could see himself going down in flames quite quickly. He needed a distraction. And, as luck would have it, that distraction began heading near him from the galley. A snide smile pulled at his scruff covered cheeks and he withdrew his cutlass from its place in the scabbard on his hip.

"Walsh!" Killian called over to the man. He turned abruptly as he slowly and warily made his way towards the captain.

"Yes, sir?" he asked, caution heavy in his voice. Killian smiled wider at the man's apprehension.

"Come spar with me, lad. I find myself positively itching with expendable energy. Need to blow off some steam." He rolled the hilt of his weapon over the callused palm of his hand. Walsh narrowed his eyes, searching for a trick or a lie, like this may be some form of punishment for flirting with the Lady Swan earlier. When he found what he must have been looking for, his face lightened and he pulled out his own sword, holding it in front of him.

Killian struck first, and it was barely deflected by the clearly inferior swordsman. The jarring clang of metal on metal caused Emma's head to pop up.

Killian stepped, catlike, and Walsh mirrored him. The tension between the two was broken when Walsh sprung into action, lashing out several times with clumsy strikes, all of which were parried. Walsh kept advancing, lashing out and it almost seemed as if Killian was allowing himself to be backed across the deck. Walsh seemed to be getting frustrated at this point. He held his blade aloft and charged the captain. Killian made no move to block and Emma's breath caught in her throat. At the last moment, he sidestepped the deckhand, causing him to trip and stumble across the deck, arms windmilling for balance. He turned and glared at his captain but wisely chose to say nothing. The men around the deck began to chuckle and Emma's lungs refilled themselves. She put the rope down, ignoring Mr. Smee's protests, and made her way closer to the action.

"You're much too aggressive, mate. Relax. You're giving your attacks away before you make them," Killian offered, gesturing over the man's body with his sword in a figure eight motion. "Rule number one, always keep your eye on the blade. Again." Walsh nodded with a snarl and came at Killian even harder. Killian's eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before he slipped back into his cool, calculated movements. Before long, Walsh had charged headlong past him again, and Killian added a boot to his rear as insult to the injury. The crew burst into uproarious laughter, Killian chuckling behind tight lips alongside them. Emma's eyebrows drew together at their mockery. They didn't need to be so cruel. So she stepped forward.

"Fancy a new partner, Captain?" she called and he turned to her, grin spreading in pleasant amusement. She fought to keep the smile from her own lips.

"Oh, no, love. I wouldn't want you to break a nail. Best leave this to the professionals." He smirked and peacocked, the tip of his tongue tracing the edge of his canine tooth and his men chuckling around him. Emma smiled in response, a trace of an edge in the gesture. She shook her head, her long blonde braid swinging at her back, and made her way to a nearby crew member. She sidled up to the man and he swallowed dumbly, looking from the captain's amused, yet rapidly darkening features, back to the blonde beauty in front of him. She batted her eyelashes.

"May I borrow this?" She pulled his sword free from his belt. The sailor nodded. "Thank you." She stepped lithely away from the man and turned back to the pirate captain.

"Easy with that, love. Don't hurt yourself," he taunted, inviting more soft laughter from the pirate crew. Emma stepped close to him. Before Killian could move, she poked him lightly in the chest with the sword.

"Dead." She smirked. He furrowed his brow and squared his shoulders.

"Now, now, that wasn't fair. I wasn't ready," he protested.

"Fair? Against a pirate?" She lifted an incredulous eyebrow. She touched the flat of her blade against the inside of his left thigh, where his femoral artery lie. "Dead," she murmured.

"Really, Swan? That's how you want to play this?" his reply was soft and challenging and she smiled again. She darted the sword up to touch his side, below his heart.

"Dead."

She moved the sword swiftly to his other side.

"Dead."

And once again up to his jugular.

"Dead."

Killian's smile was still in place on his facade, but it had a dark, almost _lustful_ edge to it that sent butterflies through Emma's being.

"Are you sure about this, darling? I never lose." His voice was low and sultry. Emma pretended not to be affected by it as she tested the balance of her sword with a deft swing through the air.

"I'll get by," she replied and took her stance. Killian smirked back at her and moved to raise his own weapon.

Like a dance they'd danced a hundred times before, they began to circle one another, light, surefooted steps padding across the deck, neither striking out. Emma bit her lip softly, waiting. When the captain's tongue poked at the corner of his mouth, she took a step back, causing the strike he aimed at her only a moment later to swing through the air in front of her. His right eyebrow jumped up his forehead of its own accord, surprised but impressed all the same. His teeth bared in a sinful smile and his eyes narrowed mischievously, causing his crow's feet to appear at the edges. And then he really began.

Metal crashed against metal, _clanks_ and _shings_ ringing out over the deck as the weapons slid and bit into each other. Emma swung, Killian dodged. Killian thrusted, Emma parried. They both met in the middle, swords crossed before breaking apart. The men around them watched in rapt attentiveness. Soon, though, Killian gained the advantage as Emma began to tire, not having had this good of a fight in years, and he backed her across the deck, setting her on her defense. They grew closer together, Killian's strikes coming quicker and more controlled until Emma found her back pressed against something solid and wooden. Somehow, they'd made their way away from the quarterdeck and she was now trapped between Captain Hook and the ship's mast.

She tried to dart around, but he advanced quickly, pinning her in place, his body shielding her from the view of their impromptu audience, her right arm fixed outward from her body underneath his elbow, rendering her sword useless.

"I tried to tell you, darling." He leaned closer to her, his clove scented breath washing over her and making her heart flutter. "I never lose."

Emma's body relaxed against his, and dare he say, she even swayed into him slightly. She looked up at him from beneath her dark lashes and he fought the urge to swallow the breath that had unexpectedly lodged itself in his throat.

"It seems congratulations are in order, Captain." Her voice was husky, dare he say seductive, and gods help him if his trousers weren't at least a little tighter at the use of his title in that tone.

"Aye?" Killian hated that the word had come out like a slightly breathless question. He was no tittering school girl, he was the bloody scourge of the seven seas! But it was hard to remember anything he'd been, man, myth, villain, legend, when Emma turned her head and ran her nose up the side of his jaw and slid her boot heel up his calf. She was so close, he could almost taste her lips on his, almost feel her foot... pull his leg right out from underneath him.

The air whooshed out of him as his back collided with the wood of the deck. With a flick of her wrist, her sword tip hooked the handle of his cutlass and sent it skittering across the deck.

"Yes, and I'll be gracious enough to accept your congratulations as a lady and press the issue no further. Never say never, Captain. And what was rule number one again?" She tapped her chin with a single finger, feigning thought. "Oh, yes. Always keep your eye on the blade." She winked and walked away, tossing her borrowed sword back to its owner before sitting and resuming the knots she'd been working on before. Bloody hell, she'd done it again. The scales tipped back in her favor. Suddenly, Killian realized he was still on his back and the deck was silent. He rolled with a groan and picked himself up with a predatory smile.

"Back to work, lads," he shouted, his gaze firmly fixed to Emma. She didn't lift her head, didn't acknowledge that they'd been so close only a moment ago. He needed to get this woman out of his head, out of his system. As quickly as possible.

The sun began to hang low in the sky, pulling up a blanket of cold air as it set. The ship was finally loaded and the men were getting restless. Killian paced the deck before calling Smee over to him. Emma had gone below deck some time back, her fingers having become numb tying knots in the biting cold, a smug victorious smile still on her pretty face as she informed him of her departure. He quickly gave the order to Smee to dismiss his men and made his way to the cabin where Emma sat, rapping on the door lightly with his hook. She bid him enter a moment later.

"Captain," she offered in cautious greeting, unsure of the mood he might find himself in after their match on deck earlier. He smiled politely in return.

"All ashore that's going ashore, love. If you still wish to accompany these brigands." A part of Killian hoped she would say no. A larger part wanted to tell that part to stuff it.

"And you," she prompted.

"Aye, and me," he agreed with a cocked eyebrow. She gauged his demeanor for a moment longer.

"Alright, Captain. I could use a little land time." She swung her legs off of the bunk where she sat, giving him the briefest glance of pale skin on her calf before her skirts covered them once again. This almost surprised him. Everything about the Swan girl was deliberate. He almost wondered if the flash of flesh was intentional. But Emma carried on through the cabin, fastening her cloak around her neck, as if she was oblivious to it. Killian shook the lascivious thoughts he'd had about her skin away and led her from the room in silence.

Emma couldn't figure Captain Jones out. She wasn't sure if he was upset with her or not. He'd been quiet, almost pensive, since their earlier encounter, barely acknowledging her departure from deck earlier. But he didn't seem cross with her. On the contrary, if he was upset with her, why would he invite her ashore? Emma was certain she was overthinking at this point and allowed herself to be led by the handsome pirate to a nearby tavern with a wooden sign that identified it as "The Edge of the World". It was an uncanny nod to the position Emma found herself at in life. On the edge of the world, poised for the adventure of a lifetime. It made her stomach turn nervously. Killian ushered her through the door and led her to a table already occupied by several of his men, Ollie, Jackson, and Smee included. Emma gratefully took a place on the bench next to Ollie, who greeted her with a large toothy smile. When she turned to ask Killian their plans for the evening, he was gone. Ollie placed a cup with dice in front of her along with a mug of ale and distracted her thoughts from the blue eyes pirate.

Several rounds into a game called Liar's Dice, which Emma found herself exceptionally adept at due to her startling accuracy in spotting dishonesty, Emma had barely touched her drink. Ollie and Jackson were red faced, deep into their cups, and several dozen of their coins sat in front of Emma.

"Lassie, I don't think I've e'er seen a woman clean out pirates that quickly unless she was naked." He huffed a chuckle and hugged her around the shoulders with one beefy arm.

"Leave the girl be, Smythe. You're embarrassing her," Jackson cut in, but Emma waved him away with a smile.

"I'm no blushing school girl, Mr. Jackson. I'm aware of pirates and their proclivities." She raised an eyebrow and Smythe boomed with laughter. Jackson even managed a smile in return. She opened her mouth to suggest a game of cards, scanning the room as she'd done at least once every ten minutes since they'd arrived, and her blood suddenly ran cold, stopping the words just behind her lips.

"Lass?" Smythe's voice sounded far away, her attentions focused on the man who had somehow slipped back into the hall unnoticed and now had a buxom redhead seated in his lap. Emma felt a nauseous twist in her stomach, jealousy running rampant through her veins as the handsome pirate captain, the same man who had kissed her the day before yesterday and set fire through her being, buried his face into the freckled cleavage being enthusiastically offered to him. The woman laughed a breathy squealing laugh and Emma had never wanted to strike someone like she did this harlot. She wasn't surprised at his actions, after all they were nothing to one another except a captain and his charge and he was a sailor about to set out to sea for a long time. She should have expected him to find himself some company for the evening. What did surprise her were the fire hot tears boiling at the corners of her eyes and the crack she felt in her damaged heart. And then she felt cold.

Literal cold, and wet, seeped all over her front and Emma shot up from her seat gasping and almost stumbling over the bench. She tried to wipe off the ale that had spilled on her but it was useless.

"Miss Swan, I am so sorry." Emma's eyes tore away from the ruined fabric and settled on the culprit of her soaking. It was Walsh.

"Ye right idjit-" Ollie stood and berated the man, Smee and Jackson standing with him. Walsh visibly shrank back behind Emma.

"I'm okay, it was an accident," Emma placated and she felt the tension from the protective men around her lessen considerably. Her eyes lifted again to see Killian watching the scene curiously. But not curious enough to remove the overflowing breasts from against his cheek. Her cheeks flamed.

"Miss Swan-" Smee started and Emma held up a hand with as polite a smile as she could muster.

"I'm going to clean this up." She turned on her heel and stalked away towards the bar.

Killian was upset. That idiot Walsh had no head around Emma it seemed. And he was pinned in place by the curvaceous woman on his knee. He hadn't planned on making a scene when he sought out company for the evening. He only had wanted to forget about the demons of past and present that haunted him. That's why he approached the young brown eyed girl in the first place. She looked so very little like either Milah or Emma that he wouldn't be tempted to envision them in his mind when he took his pleasure from her. He watched Emma storm off to the bar in search of something to clean herself with and a finger on his chin redirected his vision back to the woman in his lap. Mindy, or Mandy, he thought her name was, whatever it may have been was inconsequential, was desperate to regain his affections. He confirmed Smythe was dealing with the situation as the burly man sent Walsh from the tavern through the front door, and he gladly returned them to her.

Emma ground her teeth as she wiped at her clothes, eyes firmly fixed to the sight at the captain's table. The woman now had her tongue so far down his throat that she wondered how Hook wasn't gagging on it. It wasn't any of her business. This night had been a bust for her. She wanted to leave. Now. And so she did. She waited until the men had gone back to conversing with one another and slipped quietly around the bar, seeking out the side exit that a few wayward stragglers had utilized before.

The night air was cold against her sodden flesh and she drew her velvet cloak around her more securely to ward against it. She was a foolish thing, thinking that she could have maintained a friendship with the handsome captain. She wasn't sure when it had happened, but she was certain now that she was falling in love with Killian Jones. And it stung more than she wanted it to. Sniffling, she let her feet carry her mindlessly towards the docks.

"Miss Swan, wait!" A familiar voice called to her and she looked over her shoulder to see Walsh jogging after her.

"Go back and have fun, Walsh. My night is over, I'm only heading back to the ship," she replied, continuing to move ahead.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your night," he said softly and Emma paused, feeling guilty.

"It was an accident, Walsh. No harm done." Her voice was gentle, understanding. Walsh nodded.

"It was. I just..." He ran a hand through his scraggly hair. "I seem to bugger everything up when I'm around you. I mean, you're so beautiful." Emma flushed at the unwanted compliment, but plastered on a fake smile.

"I understand. The captain will as well." She tried to remind him of their captain, hoping his fear of the man would allow her to slip free of this conversation and head back to her cabin. But instead, Walsh took a step towards her and into her space. The fine baby hairs all over Emma's body stood on edge, uncomfortable at his closeness.

"Seems as if our captain's attention is elsewhere this evening. I'd be happy to provide you... company... if that's what you seek." Walsh moved a curl over her shoulder and leaned in close, a sudden boldness seemingly overtaking him. His sour ale breath washed over her and made her nose wrinkle. "We could spar some ourselves if you like..." he whispered and Emma's stomach churned. She managed a thin smile and pulled away from his proximity.

"I'm actually not feeling well all of a sudden." She tried to excuse herself and step around him but he stepped into her path and effectively caged her against a wall.

"Don't go," he pleaded, raising his hand to skim along her jaw. She quickly slapped it away.

"Walsh, I'm leaving to the ship. You should go back to the tavern," she insisted. Walsh's features darkened and he grasped her by the arm. She backed away from him, slipping into the alleyway around the corner slowly, eyes watching his every movement. He followed.

"I thought you'd be different. You were so nice to me." He was mumbling, almost talking to himself. His eyes snapped up to hers and his mouth twisted into a snarl. "But it turns out you're just another bitch in heat, panting after Captain Hook."

"I have no romantic designs about Captain Jones, and even if I did, it would be none of your business. And don't speak to me that way again. Go back to the tavern, Walsh." Emma began to feel panicked. She couldn't use her magic out here, not with the lively noises of men just around the corner. She'd be discovered for certain, and surely that would be worse than anything Walsh could do to her. He shook his head and chuckled and her panic grew. Before she could say anything else, Walsh struck out like lightning and grabbed her by her loosened blonde hair, shoving her back against the wall. She started to scream, but his other hand came up to clamp over her mouth.

"You didn't say please, Miss Swan. I don't really think you want me to go. I think you like me and you're afraid of what the captain might say. Well, I don't tell if you won't." Walsh's whispered words were hot in her ear but still she couldn't suppress the shiver of disgust that ran through her. She tried to shake her head no, but Walsh's hands held her deceptively tight. His eyes swept down over her figure and suddenly, Emma knew for sure what was coming. Well, she wasn't going down without a fight. She bit down hard on the hand that covered her mouth and brought a knee up as much as she could with her pinned position.

"Argh!" The knee missed its mark, but her teeth sunk into the tender fleshy part of his palm, causing him to jerk that hand away.

"HELP!" She only managed to scream the word out before stars exploded in her vision. Walsh had still had his other hand firmly implanted in Emma's hair and he used that leverage to smash her head against the stone exterior of the building he had her pressed against. The world tilted before her, blackness hovering at the edges of her sight and her ears ringing loudly. His other hand went back to her mouth and he pinned her hard in place. Tears welled up in her eyes, making her already spinning vision harder to see through.

"Shut your mouth, bitch, and don't try anything like that again. Don't act like you aren't paying your way across the sea on your back. I just want my cut." He slid the hand from her hair and reached between them, rustling their clothing around until he was grabbing Emma's bare thigh. She whimpered behind his hand and she reached up to push at him again. His hand came down from her mouth and pulled the dagger from her belt. He promptly shoved it beneath her chin.

"What do we have here?" He grinned a too large grin and scraped the blade over her throat. "If you try to scream or hit or do _anything_ besides what I say, I'll send you back to the ship in ribbons," he threatened. Emma believed him and thus resigned herself to her fate. For a brief second, her mind flickered to her magic, and she felt it warm her palms. As tightly as he had the knife pressed to her throat, there was no magic blast she could deliver to him without injuring herself severely. He waited until he was satisfied she wasn't going to try and fight him anymore and reached between them again, removing his hand from her thigh and to the lacings on the front of his own trousers. Emma's eyes widened in horror as he freed his manhood from its confines and she wondered if the mortal injury she may sustain from a magic blast would be worth it.

"I'm gonna spoil you, girl. Just _ruin_ you for the captain," he growled into her ear and pressed into her neck harder with the blade. She couldn't help the hiss that escaped her mouth as the skin beneath it broke. Walsh chuckled at the sound and slid a hand up her skirt and between her thighs. She clamped them shut instinctively but Walsh shoved them apart roughly with his knee. She squeezed her eyes closed and fought the pricking of her magic at her palms. A tear slid down her cheek in time with a droplet of blood rolling down her collarbone. He panted with effort and his tongue poked out in concentration. When he dropped his head to hike up her skirt, the knife slipped off her skin slightly and she saw her chance. But before she could take it...

"Walsh? _Swan_?!"

Walsh swung around at the sound of his captain's voice. Killian's face was twisted in pure rage. His blue eyes seemed to glow with ferocity and there was something almost feral about his bared teeth. There was no doubt in Emma's mind that Walsh was about to experience a very tortured death at the hand of Captain Hook. He stormed towards them but in the moment his vision tunneled on Walsh, Emma took her shot. A flash of light blasted Walsh across the narrow alleyway where he slumped into an unconscious heap. Killian looked from the unconscious man to Emma's gasping form and back again, trying to process what had just happened. Emma collapsed back against the cool stone wall behind her and heaved out a single sob. This drew the pirate's attention back to her again and he moved forward, sweeping her up into his arms immediately.

"Emma, did he hurt you, love?" Killian asked as he checked her over frantically. It astonished Emma how quickly he moved from becoming the thing bloody nightmares are made of, to holding her and gazing at her so delicately the next moment. "Are you-"

His words died in his throat as a cold metal blade pressed against his jugular.

"Step away from her if you value your life, cur."


End file.
